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(See page 8o) 


“ Forty-niner has gone ! Dear old forty-niner !” 



JESSICA TRENT 

Her Life on a Ranch 


BY 

EVELYN RAYMOND 

AUTHOR OF 

“Breakneck Farm,” etc. 






NEW YORK AND LONDON 
STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRE89, 
Two Comes Reocived 

OCT. too? 

CrWVWWHT ENTW 

CLASS IX XXo No. 
COPY 8. 


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Copyright, igoa 
By STREET & SMITH 

Jessica Trent 



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CONTENTS. 


Chaptbr. 

I — On the Canyon Trail 9 

II — A Bad Business 20 

III — Senor Top-Lofty . . , [ 30 

IV — An Interrupted Supper .... 39 

V — Counter Revolts ... .49 

VI — Night Visions ..... 62 

VII — Captain Jess -yi 

VIII — In the Miner’s Cabin . . . . 81 

IX — At the Bottom of the Shaft . . .94 

X — Aunt Sally 106 

XI — The Guest Departs 120 

XII — A Projected journey .... 132 

XIII — The Start 144 

XIV— The Finish 156 

XV — A New Friend for the Old . . . .167 

XVI — A Hospital Reunion .... 178 

XVII — The Finding of Antonio . . . .188 

XVIII — Apprehended 198 

XIX — Antonio’s Message ..... 207 

XX — A Railway journey 218 

XXI — Back at Sobrante 228 





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JESSICA TRENT. 


CHAPTER I. 

ON THE CANYON TRAIL. 

^‘Hello, there ! What in the name of reason is this 

The horseman’s excited cry was echoed by a startled 
neigh from his beast, which wheeled about so suddenly 
that he nearly precipitated both himself and rider into the 
gulch below. 

''Oh! I’m sorry Hold on, Zu ! Go! Do, please. 

Quick ! It’s so narrow just beyond and I can’t ” 

The stranger obeyed, perforce, for his spirited ani- 
mal having now headed up the slope, continued on his 
course at breakneck speed, pursued at equal pace, by 
the unknown creature that had terrified him. 

The race would not have been so even had the trail 
been wider, for King Zulu could easily have beaten his 
contestant, but, as it was, the fleeing bay bruised his 
master’s leg against the canyon wall, now and then, while 
bits of the bird’s plumage were torn on the same pro- 
jecting rocks. There was no point of passage till more 
than a mile higher on the mountain, and Jess knew this 
if Mr. Hale did not. He knew nothing save that he was 


10 


JESSICA TRENT. 


dinging and riding for his life, and that this “Western 
horseback tour” which his doctor had prescribed for him, 
seemed now more likely to prove his death than his cure. 

But when a laugh rang out, close to his shoulder, he 
turned his head and glanced angrily backward. 

“Oh, I beg your pardon, but — it’s so funny ! I’ve often 
wanted to try King Zu against a strange horse and now 
I have. Only, if we were up there on the mesa, he’d 
show you !” 

“Does this trail never end, nor turn?” 

“Of course — at the top; but are you ill, sir?” 

The laughter on the girl’s face changed to anxiety. 

“Not ill, exactly; only I’m not experienced at this 
business and it shakes me.” 

“You ride too hard and stiff. That’s why. Let your- 
self go — just be part of your horse. He’s a beauty, isn’t 
he? Even the boys couldn’t stand that gait.” 

“And you. Who taught you to ride an ostrich? 
Where did you get it ? It’s almost the first one I ever saw 
and quite the first that Prince did. I was nearly as 
scared as he, meeting such a creature on a lonely moun- 
tain trail.” 

“I never learned — it just happened. Zulu is ‘patriarch’ 
of the flock. The only imported bird left alive. We 
just grew up together, he and I. Didn’t we. King?” 

Speech was now easier, for the speed of both animals 
had slackened, that of Prince to a comfortable trot. 
While the sidewise lurching motion of the ostrich was 
enjoyable enough to Jessica, it turned Mr. Hale’s head 
dizzy, watching. Or it may have been the blinding sun- 


ON THE CANYON TRAIL. 


11 


shine, beating against the canyon wall and deflected upon 
the riders in waves of heat. 

“Whew! This is scorching. How far, yet?” 

Jessica saw that what she minded not at all was turn- 
ing the stranger sick, and answered swiftly : 

“You wouldn’t be able to get further than ‘five times’ 
before we reach the turn. There’ll be a glorious breeze 
then. There always is.” 

“What do you mean by ‘five times ?’ ” 

“Why, just the mutiplication table. I always say it 
when I’ve something I want to get over quick. You be- 
gin at one-times-one, and see if it isn’t so.” 

“What shall we find at the top ; your home ?” 

“Oh, no, indeed. That is quite the other way. Down 
in the valley. Sobrante ranch. That’s ours. Were you 
going there?” 

“I was going — anywhere. I had lost my way. ‘Missed 
the trail,’ as you say in this country.” 

“I thought, maybe, you were just a ‘tourist.’ ” 

Mr. Hale laughed, and the laugh helped him to forget 
his present discomfort. 

“Perhaps I am, even if you do speak so disdainfully. 
Are all ‘tourists’ objectionable?” 

Jessica’s brown cheek flushed. She felt she had said 
something rude — she, whose ambition it was to be always 
and everywhere “Our Lady Jess,” that the dear “boys” 
called her. But she remembered how annoyed her mother 
was by the visits of strangers who seemed to regard 
Sobrante and its belongings as a “show” arranged for 
their special benefit, 


12 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“We — we are generally glad when the rains come/’ 
she answered, evasively. 

“To keep them away? Yet if, as I suspect, you have 
an ostrich farm, I can’t blame their curiosity. I’m hoping 
to visit one, myself.” 

“Ours is not a real ‘farm.’ It is just one of the many 
things our ranch is good for. But I know my mother 
would make you very welcome. You — but there! Look 
down, please. Yonder it is, Sobrante. That means 
‘richness,’ you know. And now up. The next turn will 
land us on the mesa, and I hope, I hope, I have come in 
time !” 

The road had now broadened, and with a little chirrup 
to King Zulu, she passed and forged ahead so rapidly 
that she was soon out of sight. The great bird upon 
whose back she was perched was not, apparently, at all 
wearied, but poor Prince was utterly winded, while a 
curious feeling of loneliness stole upon his rider. 

But, presently, the sound of voices came over the 
bluff, and Mr. Hale urged his tired beast forward. The 
next he knew he was sprawling on the plateau and his 
horse had fallen beside him. Prince’s forefoot was in a 
hole, from which he was unable to withdraw it. 

“Oh 1 oh ! The poor creature ! And you, sir, are you 
hurt?” 

“No, I think not. Rather a shake-up, though, and I 
was dizzy with the heat before. Prince, Prince, lie still ; 
we’ll help you.” 

One glance had showed the stranger that they were 
near a shepherd’s hut, and that its occupant was at 


ON THE CANYON TRAIL. 13 

home. The man had been sitting quietly in the shade of 
the little building and of the one pepper tree which grew 
beside its threshold. He did not move, even now, till the 
girl called, impatiently : 

“Pedro! Come! Quick!” 

Then he arose in a leisurely fashion and, carefully de- 
positing his osiers in a tub of water, came forward. 

“So? He can't get up, yes? A wise man looks where 
he rides, indeed.” 

Despite his anxiety over Prince, Mr. Hale regarded the 
shepherd with amused curiosity. Pedro's swarthy face 
was as unmoved as if the visits of strangers with dis- 
abled horses were daily events ; but the man’s calmness 
did not prevent his usefulness. In fact, during every 
step of his deliberate advance he had been studying the 
situation and how best to aid the fallen animal, which 
had now ceased to struggle and lay gazing at his master 
with a dumb, pitiful appeal. 

Then Pedro bent forward and, with a strength amazing 
in a man of his small build, seized Prince’s head and 
shoulder and with one prodigious wrench freed him from 
the pitfall. Then he stooped again and carefully ex- 
amined the bruised forefoot. 

“A moon and a half he’ll go lame. Yes. For just so 
long let him be left with Pedro. Si?" 

Then he led the limping beast toward the hut and 
began to bathe its injured ankle with the water from the 
tub. 

“Marvelous ! I never saw anything done as easily as 
that !" cried Mr. Hale, recovering from his astonishment. 


14 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“Ah; but you’ve never seen our Pedro before. And 
to think I was so angry with him, I !” 

With a remorseful impulse Jessica sprang forward 
and threw her arms about the old shepherd’s shoulders. 
He received her caress as calmly as he did everything 
else, though a keen observer might have seen a fleeting 
smile around his rugged lips. 

Smiles did, indeed, spring to all three faces when, a 
moment later, the rattling of tins discovered Zulu rum- 
maging a heap of empty cans, even in the very act of 
swallowing a highly decorated one. 

The jingling startled Prince, also, from the repose 
into which he had now settled, and^ after one terrified 
glance toward his unknown enemy, King Zu, he dashed 
across the mesa as if lameness were unknown. 

At which Pedro smiled, well content. 

“Good. He that uses his own legs spares his neighbors. 
Yes.” 

“Meaning that he would have to be exercised by some- 
body ?” 

The shepherd did not answer. He had lived alone so 
long amid the great solitudes of nature that speech had 
grown irksome to him. He regarded it a sin to waste 
words, and his young mistress understood this, if Mr. 
Hale did not. To this gentleman the situation presented 
itself as a very serious one. There was no habitation 
visible save the small hut, a place barely sufficient to its 
owner’s simple needs and utterly inadequate to those of a 
lately recovered invalid. He was not strong enough to 
make his way to the valley on foot, and even if Prince 


ON THE CANYON TRAIL. 


15 


were now able to carry him, he felt it would be brutal to 
impose so hard a task. 

But Jessica came to his aid with the suggestion : 

“If you’ll come and rest behind the cabin I’ll make you 
a cup of coffee on Pedro’s little stove. He often lets me 
when I come up to see him, and then, when you’re 
rested, we’ll go home. I am so angry I can hardly 
breathe.” 

“Indeed ; I should never have guessed it,” he answered, 
laughing, and allowing the girl to lead him to the shelter 
proposed. 

“Ah ! but I am. And a gentlewoman never gets angry. 
Least of all with such a darling as Pedro. You see, he 
ought to have been about dying, and he hasn’t even a 
single ache !” 

“What an odd child you are !” 

“Am I?” regarding him gravely. “I’m sure I don’t 
want to be that. I want to be just — perfect.” 

Mr. Hale sighed as he dropped upon the bench to 
w’hich Jess had guided him. “We are none of us that — 
ever.” 

“I suppose that’s because ‘none of us’ ever try quite 
hard enough. But I will be, if trying will fetch it.” 

Then she whisked inside the hut and presently there 
came to the gentleman’s nostrils the aroma of freshly 
steaming coffee. He had not realized that he was hungry, 
but now could scarcely wait until the little maid came out 
to him again with a tin cup of the liquid in one hand and 
a can of condensed milk in the other. 

'‘My mother always lets her guests ‘trim’ their drink 


16 


JESSICA TRENT. 


for themselves, but I’ll drop in the cream if you’ll say 
how much. Enough? Now sugar. One? How queer. 
And it’s sugar of our own making, too; beet sugar, you 
know.” 

The tin cup was decidedly rusty, the cheap spoon dingy, 
and “canned” milk the aversion of Mr. Hale’s dyspeptic 
stomach; yet despite these facts he had never tasted a 
more delicious draught than this, nor one served with a 
gentler grace. For Jessica was quite unconscious that 
there was anything amiss with Pedro’s dishes, and now 
offered the stranger a tin of time-hardened biscuits, with 
the air of one proffering the rarest of dainties. 

“You would better eat one of these ; they’re quite fine, 
with the coffee.” 

“I’ll — I’ll try, thank you, if you’ll fetch your own cup 
and sit beside me.” 

“All right. Only I’ll have to wait till Pedro’s finished. 
There’s only this and the egg, you know. He’s rather 
stubborn, dear fellow. My mother has offered him more 
dishes, but he says ‘more care’ and won’t take them. 
Excuse me.” 

With a dip and swirl of her short skirts, the little 
hostess ran into the hut, to reappear, a moment later, 
bearing in both hands a drinking-cup which made the 
guest exclaim in delight : 

“What an exquisite thing!” 

“Isn’t it? But just wait until you see those which 
Pedro made for mother! This is fine, but they’re like 
cobwebs.” 

She did not offer to oiiow him the cup more closely. 


ON THE CANYON TRAIL. 


17 


for she had seen the shepherd lay down his rushes and sit 
waiting, and Jessica would not disappoint the old friend 
for the new. Still the less, because she had so lately been 
vexed with him, and wholly without cause. 

But when the silent fellow had emptied the cup she 
proudly gave it for Mr. Hale’s inspection. 

“An ostrich egg, you see, cut off at the top. Pedro 
wove all this lacelike outside, of just the common tule 
rushes. He splits them till they are like threads, and see 
that handle ! Nothing could break it, nor can one tell just 
where it begins or ends — the joinings, I mean. There 
are many wonderful weavers among the Indians, but none 
so deft as our Pedro, my mother says. 

“Now, will you not fill this again and drink it with 
me? For I see that our speechless friend, yonder, has 
gone to work again as if his life depended on his in- 
dustry.” 

“He’s always at work, like that. Yet he never neglects 
his flock. He has been herding ever since he was a little 
boy. That must have been ages ago. He’s so very old.” 

“He doesn’t look it. L should guess he might be fifty.” 

“Fifty ! Why, there’s nobody anywhere around who 
remembers when our Pedro was born. Not even Fra 
Mateo at the mission, yet even he is more than a hun- 
dred,” she answered, proudly. 

“Possible? Well, this is all wonderful to me who 
have lived always in a crowded city. This big West is 
like a romance, a fairy tale; not the least of its marvels 
to find a little girl like you riding alone on such a steed up 
such a desolate canyon, yet noV In the least afraid.” 


18 


JESSICA TRENT. 


^‘Why, of what should I be afraid ? Except, of course, 
I was, for a bit, when I saw that Zulu made your horse 
rear. A step nearer and you’d both have gone over.'*’ 

Mr. Hale shuddered, and Jessica hastened to add: 

“But the step wasn’t taken and you’re quite safe up 
here. Is the dizziness all gone ? Many are like that be- 
fore they get used to the glare. Some of the ‘tourists’ 
wear blue glasses, and veils, and things. They look so 
funny.” 

Into her laughter burst Pedro’s sudden speech. 

“ ’Ware Antonio. Is it plucking day, no? His third 
hand is Ferd, who lies and steals. I know. The mistress’ 
chest has many openings. Nina, go home, and bid An- 
tonio come himself when next he’d have me die. Yes.” 

Jessica sprang to her feet. These were many words for 
the shepherd to utter, and not to be disobeyed. Though 
the old man’s age was doubtless far less than was ac- 
credited him, he was commonly considered a sage whose 
intelligence increased, rather than diminished, with the 
passing years. 

“I’ll go at once, Pedro. Please forget that I was angry 
and — good-by.” 

Mr. Hale was unprepared for this sudden departure, 
which bereft the scene of its fairest feature; for even 
while he listened to the brief speech between this odd pair 
there was a flash of twinkling feet and a scarlet Tam, and 
Jessica was gone. 

“Why — why — what ? Eh, what ?” he demanded, rising. 

His answer came with a crash and clatter which could 
never have been make by one small, fleeing figure, and 


ON THE CANYON TRAIL. 


19 


with the startling force with which everything happened 
on that eventful day. 

Over the bluff scrambled a shaggy piebald burro, from 
whose back there tumbled at the stranger’s very feet a 
brace of little lads, securely lashed together; even their 
wrists and ankles bound beyond possibility of their own 
undoing. 

“Horrors ! Indian captives !” cried the gentleman, 
aghast. 


CHAPTER 11. 


A BAD BUSINESS. 

Captives? Far from it — save to their own reckless 
disregard of life and limb, and all for a bit of hitherto 
untested fun. 

Shrieking with laughter at the success of their experi- 
ment, they rolled and floundered on the ground, till the 
laughter changed to cries of pain as their restless writh- 
ings to and fro drove their self-inflicted bonds deeper into 
the flesh. 

By some dexterity they got upon their feet, at last, and 
one implored : 

“Oh ! you Pedro ! or you, man ! Cut us loose, can’t 
you? Don’t you see we can’t do it ourselves?” 

Mr. Plale adjusted his eyeglasses and looked rather 
helplessly toward the shepherd; but that phlegmatic per- 
son was working away on his wonderful basket as- stol- 
idly as if there was none beside himself upon the mesa. 

“Oh ! you hateful old Pedro ! Cut us free, I tell you ! 
Ain’t I your master? You’d do it mighty quick for 
‘Lady Jess.’ ” 

The frightened little fellow, whose fun had now ebbed 
into a terrible fear of an indefinite bondage, began to 
whimper, and Mr. Hale to act. A few sharp slashings 
of the horsehair thongs and the captives were free to 
express their delight in a series of somersaults, which 


A BAD BUSINESS. 


21 


were only arrested by sight of Prince in the distance, 
holding up his injured foot and seeking for some pasture 
amid the dry herbage. 

“Hello ! That horse is new. Is he yours, mister ? 
What’s the matter with him ? Humph ! I guess you’re 
new, too, aren’t you? I never saw you in our valley 
before. Where’s your ranch?” 

The questioner was a blue-eyed, fair-haired little chap 
whose close resemblance to Jessica proclaimed him her 
brother ; but he was younger, sturdier, and less courteous 
than she. Yet his prolonged stare at the stranger had less 
of rudeness than surprise in it, and Mr. Hale laughed at 
the frank inspection. 

“You look rather ^new’ yourself, my man. About 
eight years, aren’t you?” 

“How’d you guess?” 

“Lads of my own.” 

Where?”' 

“Several thousand miles away, over on the Atlantic 
coast.” 

“Why didn’t you fetch ’em?” 

“Couldn’t afford it.” 

“Oh ! couldn’t you ? H-m-m.” Then he turned his at- 
tention to Pedro, with the remark : “Why aren’t you sick, 
like ’Tonio said? Making my sister come away up here 
for nothing. Don’t you dare do that again, I tell you. 
You’re just as well as ever, and I smell coffee. Come on, 
Luis !” 

Catching his mate around the shoulders the boy 
rushed into the hut, only to be as promptly banished 


22 


JESSICA TRENT. 


from it. With a swiftness matching the children’s own, 
the shepherd had followed and caught the pair, a lad in 
either hand, and flung them out of doors, exactly as one 
might a couple of mischievous kittens. Evidently, what 
was permissible to “Lady Jess” was forbidden these, 
though they were not at all disturbed by their sudden 
ejection. Such incidents were too familiar, and, having 
landed in one heap upon the ground, they immediately 
fell to wrestling as if this were the business they had 
originally intended. Now the black head of Spanish Luis 
was uppermost, now the sunnier one of Ned, with a flying 
jumble of vari-colored hands and feet, till Pedro came 
out and offered to each contestant a cup of cold, but well- 
sweetened coffee. 

This meant instant truce and they carried their treat 
to the bench Mr. Hale had occupied, leaving him to stand 
or sit upon the ground, as he preferred. He chose the 
latter and near enough to hear their eager chatter, which 
was still full of indignation against the shepherd’s robust 
health. 

“ ’Cause he ought to been dead, ’most. And my mother 
wanting Jess the worst ever was. ’Cause Wun Lung 
cut hisself.” 

“Maybe Wung Lung die now, maybe,” suggested Luis, 
with hopeful heartlessness. 

“Pshaw ! No, he won’t. Chinanien don’t. You never 
saw one, Luis Garcia. Hi ! Look at Zulu. Hi ! Keno, 
Keno, Keno ! Oh, Wow !” 

By a mutual impulse. Prince and the ostrich had put 
as wide a space between themselves as possible, and the 


A BAD BUSINESS. 


23 


latter had strolled close to Pedro’s quiet flock before he 
had perceived it. This was evident, even from the dis- 
tance; but now uprose Keno, the collie, and with angry 
yelps rushed fearlessly upon the great bird. 

King Zulu hesitated but an instant before he turned his 
back upon his assailant and made all speed over the 
bluff into the canyon below. 

“Well, of all cowards ! A creature that could have 
killed the dog with one kick of his foot !” cried Mr. Hale, 
amazed. 

“Huh ! No, he couldn’t. Kill you or Pedro. Kill that 
old horse of yours, easy as scat. Can’t kick low down 
as Keno. Huh ! Guess I know more about ostriches 
than you do,” exulted Ned, in whose opinion the stranger 
had now greatly fallen. 

“Huh ! Don’t know ’bout ostrichers !” echoed Luis, 
loyally, and was rewarded by a friendly slap from his 
pattern and playmate. 

Roused by the disturbance of his sheep, Pedro hurried 
to quiet them, but, as he passed, fixed a piercing gaze 
upon the stranger’s face. The scrutiny seemed to par- 
tially reassure him, for he observed : 

“Horse lame, Zulu gone, catch the burro, yes. Let 
the feet which take the trail be young, not feeble and 
unused. But to him who journeys with evil in his heart 
evil will surely come. The widow and the orphan belong 
to God. Indeed, yes. ’Ware, Antonio.” 

Mr. Hale reflected swiftly. He smiled at thought of 
his own long legs bestriding the low back of the donkey, 
but a memory of that heated trail down which he must 


24 


JESSICA TRENT. 


pass to reach the nearest house, decided the matter. 
While the small owners of the burro were improving the 
time of the shepherd’s absence to ransack his dwelling 
the sturdy little animal bore its unaccustomed rider out 
of sight. 

Meanwhile, Jessica’s moccasined feet were flying down 
the slope, her blue skirts and scarlet Tam making a 
moving spot of color against the sandy glare of the 
canyon wall, and long before she came within hailing dis- 
tance catching the eyes of one who eagerly awaited her 
approach. 

This was John Benton, the carpenter and general 
utility man at Sobrante; who had come up the opposite 
side of the canyon, where were many huge bowlders, a 
few trees, and no trail at all. Indeed, a passage along 
that face of the gulch was difficult in extreme, and so 
dangerous that it must have been serious business which 
brought a lame man thither. Fortunately for his patience, 
the girl paused for breath at a point level with his own 
narrow perch upon a shelving rock, and where there 
was no great width of the V-shaped chasm. 

“Lady Jess! Oh! I say! Miss Jessica! Lady Jess!” 

The girl looked about her, up and down, everywhere 
save to that further side where nobody ever went if it 
could be avoided. But she answered, cheerily ; 

^^Hola! Coo’ee ! Coo-ee! Who are you?” 

The man made a trumpet of his hands and shouted 
back : 

“The flume! Look east — ^to the flume!” 


A BAD BUSINESS. 


25 


She followed his example and called through her own 
fingers : 

“What’s wrong? How came you there?” 

He pointed downward, and she shaded her eyes from 
the blinding sunshine to see why, but could discover noth- 
ing new in the familiar scene. 

“The water ! That’s w^here it goes ! The flume is 
cut !” 

Even at that pitch, his tones were full of excited indig- 
nation, and her own anger leaped at once. 

“Somebody’s cut the flume? Who dared! Wait — wait 
— I’m coming!” 

“No, no! Don’t. You can’t help it — you’ll break your 
neck ! Oh ! Lady Jess !” 

“I’m coming! Wait for me!” 

The carpenter laughed. “Might have known she 
would, and wanted she should, I suppose. Surest-footed 
little thing in the world. Guess I needn't fret. Though 
when I think what this old ranch would be without her, 
I don’t feel any great call to send her into danger, myself. 
My ! she’s as nimble as a squirrel ! Down to the bottom 
a’ready. Up this side in a jiffy, and won’t her blue eyes 
snap when she sees this low-down trick? If I knew 
whose job it was, well. I’m a peaceable man if I’m let, 
but there wouldn’t be room enough in this here valley for 
the two of us. And it’s all on a piece with the rest. One 
thing after another. There’s a snake in this wigwam, 
but which ’tis ? H-m-m ! Beats me. Beats me clear to 
Jericho.” 

Then he fell to watching the slower, steady ascent of 


26 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Jessica, who had descended the further side so swiftly, 
and who had clambered lightly enough over the rough- 
ness of the gulch bottom ; at times filled with a roaring 
torrent, but now quit dry after a long, hot summer. 

“Well, here I am !” 

“And a sorry sight to show you. Look a’ that now. 
Isn’t that a regular coyote piece of work?” 

Along this face of the canyon descended a line of small 
wooden troughs, closely joined, and supported upon 
slender but strong cedar uprights. This flume connected 
with the distant reservoir of an irrigating company and 
had been built by Jessica’s dead father at a great and ill- 
afforded expense. But of all good things there was noth- 
ing so precious to the tillers of that thirsty land as water, 
and the cutting off of this supply meant ruin to Sobrante. 

Young as she was, Jessica fully understood this, 
though she could not understand that any human being 
should do a deed so dastardly. 

“John Benton, you mustn’t say that. Some of the 
cattle have done it. It’s an accident. It can be mended. 
I’m sorry, of course, but so thankful you found it. And 
I see you’ve got your tools.” 

“Oh ! I can mend it, all right, but it won’t stay mended. 
You'll see. ’Tisn’t the first break I’ve patched, not by 
any means.” 

“Of course it isn’t. Only last week in that stampede, 
when the boys were changing pasture, the creatures ran 
against it and you fixed it, good as new. There isn’t any- 
thing you can’t do with an ax and a few nails.” 

John passed the compliment by unheeding. 


A BAD BUSINESS. 


27 


“There’s breaks and there’s cuts. Reckon I can tell 
the difference quick enough. This is a cut and isn’t the 
first one I’ve found, I say. ’Twas a fresh-ground blade 
did this piece of deviltry, or I’m no judge of edges. 
Now, who did it? Why? And how’s old Pedro?” 

Despite her faith in her friends, the small ranch- 
woman’s heart sank. 

“He — he — why, he isn’t sick at all ! I was sent up 
there on a fool’s errand, and just on plucking-day, when 
I was so needed at home. With Wun Lung hurt and 
mother so busy, I ought to have a dozen pairs of hands. 
Of course. I’m glad he's well, dear old fellow, but I 
shouldn’t have gone this morning if somebody hadn’t told 
Antonio wrong. I met a stranger on the trail, too, and 
Zulu scared his horse, and it stumbled in a gopher hole 
or something and is lamed for ever so long. He’ll likely 
come to Sobrante, if he can get there, but he looked ill 
if Pedro didn’t, and the sun nearly overcame him. Can’t 
I help you hold that board?” 

John accepted her offer of help less because he needed 
it than because he always liked to have her near him. 

“So ’twas Antonio sent you, eh? H-m-m !” 

“He didn’t send me. Course not. He just said some- 
body said Pedro was dying.” 

The carpenter laughed, but his mirth was not pleasant. 

“Queer how stories get mixed, even in this lonesome 
place. There; you needn’t hold that. Your little hands 
aren’t so very strong, helpful as they try to be. This 
isn’t any great of a job; if‘’twould only stay, once ’twas 
finished 


28 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“Then Fll go. Maybe Td better send up one of the 
boys to help you. Shall I? Who do you want?” 

Upon the point of declining, the carpenter changed his 
mind. 

“Yes, you may. I wish you would. Send Antonio.” 

“Send — Antonio ! Why, I should as soon think of 
‘sending’ that stranger I told you about. You’re teasing 
me, for you know well that Antonio is the only one who 
ever ‘sends’ Antonio. Even my mother, who has a right 
to ‘send’ everybody on the ranch whither she will, never 
orders the manager. Well, good-by. You shall have a 
nice dinner out of the house-kitchen to pay for your hard 
climb.” 

“Take care where you step in your hurry, and just try 
that word on the ‘sehor.’ Tell him there’s a bit of a break 
in the flume Td like his advice about.” 

The workman’s laugh followed the girl down the rough 
and perilous way, and just as she passed out of hearing 
came the parting shot : 

“Send Antonio!” 

“H-m-m ! I don’t see what it all means. First is old 
Pedro, with his grim ’Ware Antonio !’ And now John 
Benton speaks in that queer way, as if there were two 
meanings to his words. Heigho ! I hear somebody 
coming up. I wonder who!” 

Hurrying downward as fast as the uneven path al- 
lowed, her own softly-shod feet making no noise, she 
reached a turn of the road and suddenly slackened her 
pace. The man approaching was one of the few whom 
she feared and disliked. 


A BAD BUSINESS. 


29 


“Ferd, the dwarf!” 

Instinctively, she hid behind a clump of shrubbery and 
waited for him to pass, hoping he would not see her. He 
did not. He was too engrossed in handling, apparently 
counting, something within a deep basket that hung on 
his arm, and his bare feet loped around over the rocks as 
easily as they would have carried him across the level 
mesa. 

As soon as he had gone by Lady Jess started onward, 
but she had grown even more thoughtful. 

“That’s queer. Antonio must need Ferd to-day if ever 
he does. Indeed, nobody seems able to serve him as well 
as that poor half-wit. What could he have had in his 
basket ? And — ha ! how came this here ?” 

With a cry of surprise she lifted a small, soft object 
from the ground before her and regarded it in gathering 
dismay. 


CHAPTER III. 


SENOR TOP-LOFTY. 

Ever since Jessica could remember, Antonio Bernal 
had been manager of the Sobrante ranch, and after the 
death of her father, a few months before, he became 
practically its master. Even Mrs. Trent deferred to his 
opinions more and more, and seemed to stand in awe of 
him, as did most others on the great estate. He was 
the only person there, save his own servant, Ferd, who 
did not treat the little girl with that adoring sort of rev- 
erence which had given her the love-name of “our Lady 
Jess.” For some reason unknown to her he disliked 
her and showed this, so that she shrank from and feared 
him in return. 

As she emerged from the canyon upon the broad, sandy 
road which crossed the valley, she saw him loping 
toward her on the powerful black horse with which he 
made his daily rounds to inspect the many industries that 
Mr. Trent had established. Jessica could always tell by 
the way in which he rode what Antonio’s mood might be, 
and it did not lessen her dread to see that his sombrero 
was well over his eyes and his shoulders hunched for- 
ward. 

“Something’s put him out, but I can’t help that. I 
must stop him and speak to him.” 

So she placed herself in the middle of the road and 
shouted her familiar : 


SENOR TOP-LOFTY. 


31 


‘^Hola! Coo-ee ! Coo-ee!” 

Any other ranchman would have paused and saluted his 
“lady,” but the “senor” made as if he would ride her 
down, unseeing. 

Jessica did not flinch. That ready temper which she 
was always lamenting flamed at the insult, and she would 
not move a hair’s breadth from his path. 

“Hola ! Antonio Bernal ! I must speak to you. And — 
see that?” 

Suddenly bending forward she waved something long 
and black under Nero’s nose, who reared and settled on 
his haunches in a way to test a less experienced rider. 

“What do you mean, child ” began that irate gen- 

tleman, but pausing at sight of the object she held. 

“I think this a plume from Beppo’s wing, don’t you, 
Antonio ?” 

He muttered something under his breath, and she went 
on, explaining : 

“I found it in the canyon, just after Ferd had gone up 
it. I knew it in a minute, for I was looking Beppo over 
yesterday, and I never saw such perfect feathers on any 
bird. How do you suppose it came there, and why?” 

“The fool ! One of the very best. How dared he ! 
But I suppose ril have to admit he stole it. I don’t see 
how, though, for I did the work myself. Give it to me, 
senorita; I’ll put it with the others.” 

Somehow, when Antonio was suave “our Lady Jess” 
liked him less than when he was sharp of speech. His 
native “senorita” jarred on her ear, though she blamed 


32 


JESSICA TRENT. 


herself for her injustice, nor did she yield him the 
feather. 

“Not yet, please. I’m going to show it to mother. 
She’ll be so delighted to know the plucking was a rich 
one; andy4f Ferd did steal this, or has others in his 
basket, of course you’ll make him bring them back.” 

“Of course,” answered Antonio, though he frowned 
and searched her face with his black eyes as if to read all 
her suspicions. 

But as yet Jessica was not suspicious; she was vaguely 
troubled, as if she had come into some dark and un- 
known world. Surely Antonio was able to clear off all 
these little mysteries, and she checked him again as he 
was about to ride on. 

“There’s something else, senor,” adopting his title in 
imitation of his addressing her; “John Benton is up the 
gulch fixing a break in the flume. It’s a bad one, and 
more a cut than a break, he says. He asked me to tell 
you and wishes you’d go up there to advise him. I’m 
to send up a man to help him. But he wants you, too.” 

“Why should I waste my time on such a fool’s errand, 
eh? I knew there was a leak somewhere and am glad 
he’s found it. There’s been no water in the ditches these 
three days — more, ten, maybe — and the oranges are fall- 
ing. Send up that idler, Joe; and, by the way, how’s 
Pedro?” 

It was the blue eyes now which turned keen and search- 
ing, and under their gaze Antonio’s were averted toward 
some distant point in the landscape, though the con- 
temptuous smile remained upon his lips. 


SENOR TOP-LOFTY. 


33 


“That was a fools errand, too, Sehor Bernal, and I 
did so want to be at home this morning. Pedro was 
never livelier. Whoever told you he was ill was quite 
mistaken.” 

Antonio gave a short, derisive laugh, dug, his spurs 
into Nero’s sides and loped away. A picturesque, notice- 
able figure in his quaint, half-Spanish dress and his 
silver-decorated sombrero, bestriding the heavy Mexican 
saddle upon his powerful horse. 

“Vain as a peacock,” was his fellow-ranchmen’s 
opinion of their “boss,” though had his affectations been 
all his shortcomings these had not lessened their liking 
for him. 

Lady Jess looked after him for a moment, her face still 
sober and perplexed. 

“I ought to be at home, helping mother, this minute; 
but I’m going first to the corral to speak a word of com- 
fort to poor Beppo, and see how big a plucking there 
was. If it was a good yield that will be so much the 
better news to tell my dear, and this certainly is the finest 
plume we ever got. Good ! There are some of the boys 
over there, too, and I’ll save time by getting one of them 
to go up the canyon to John. HolaT 

Her soliloquy ended in the gay little Spanish salute, 
and this was now instantly answered by a hearty shout 
of welcome from a group of rough-garbed men, taking 
a moment’s rest in the shade of the old adobe packings 
house. 

As lightly as if she had not already walked a long 
distance, the girl ran to her friends, to be at once caught 


34 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Up by a pair of strong arms and gently placed upon a 
cushion in the box of an empty wagon. 

“But this was your place, Joe Dean. I saw you get 
up from it.” 

“It’s yours now, Lady Jess. You do me proud. What’s 
the good word? How’s old Pedro?” 

“Well, just plain, every day well. Never been sick a 
minute. Had all that climb for nothing; or, maybe, not 
quite for nothing ; because I met a stranger up there and 
liked him; and saw John Benton as I came down, and — 
found this ! Isn’t that a plume to be proud of ? Raised 
right here on our little Sobrante.” 

“Whew ! It’s a beauty, sure enough. A dozen like 
that would be worth a tidy sum. How found it ?” 

“Has anybody seen King Zu? Though, of course, I 
know it can’t be his. He was plucked such a little while 
ago, nor could he have gotten across the gulch without 
losing more. Besides, Antonio said ‘stole.’ ” 

Then she gave a hasty account of her morning’s adven- 
tures, during which meaning glances were exchanged 
between the trio of workmen who, by the time she had 
finished, had grown as glum as they had before beem 
cheerful. 

“Now, what do you think? Is there anybody who’d 
be mean enough to cut off my mother’s irrigation, on 
purpose, or steal her feathers? Even poor Ferd; I’m 
sure she’s always been good to him and pitied him.” 

“Ferd has hands. Others have heads,” said Joe, as 
spokesman for the rest. 

They nodded swift assent. 


SENOR TOP-LOFTY. 


35 


“Except yourself, Lady Jess, nobody ever sees the 
‘sehor’ handle the feathers, and you not often. Only he 
and his shadow, foolish Ferd, can manage the birds, he 
claims. Eve been smoking that in my pipe along back.’’ 

“Oh! Joe, you shouldn’t be suspicious of evil.” 

“No, I shouldn’t be anything you don’t want me to be, 
but I am.” 

“Even if I don’t like him very well, because he’s a little 
cross, Antonio Bernal is a good man. He must be. Else 
my father and now mother wouldn’t trust him so. She 
lets him get all the money for everything first and she 
has what’s left — after you’re all paid, I mean.” 

“Poor little woman !” 

“Not poor, exactly, Samson. And it isn’t Antonio’s 
fault that there isn’t so much as there used to be when 
father was here. If there were, mother would carry out 
all father’s plans. She’d irrigate that tract beyond the 
arroyo, toward the sand hills, and test it with strawber- 
ries, as he meant. There shouldn’t be an inch of untilled 
land on all the ranch, if the crops we have paid just a 
little better. But, no matter. As long as you boys get 
your due wages, we can wait for the rest.” 

There was another exchange of glances which Jessica 
did not see. Neither did ^he see herder Samson, lying at 
length on the ground, lift his great boot and significantly 
point to a hole in its toe. Nor would she have surmised 
his meaning had she done so. Indeed, she suddenly re- 
membered her errand at the packing-house and ran to 
open its door, but failed. 


36 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“How queer! Why should this be locked? I didn’t 
know it ever was. Where can the key be?” 

“In Antonio Bernal’s pocket,” said Joe, quietly. 

“Then even before I found this feather he must have 
suspected somebody and taken care of the others. But 
it’s dreadful if we have come to turning keys on one 
another, here, at dear Sobrante. Well, I’m off to mother, 
now ; and, Joe, Antonio said you should go to help John. 
Will you?” 

“For you, fast enough. Lady Jess, though Fm about 
quit of Top-Lofty’s orders.” 

“Grumbler !” laughed the girl, hurrying away, with 
her gayety quite restored by this few minutes’ chat with 
the beloved “boys” who had petted her all her life. 

They did not laugh, however, as they watched her 
going, and Joe, rising to do her bidding, slapped his 
thigh emphatically and remarked : 

“I call it the time has come. The longer we put it off 
the worse.it is. Poor little missy! Getting our wages 
due! That little angel ’d cry all the blue out of her 
pretty eyes if she knew how long ’twas since we’d seen 
the color of our money. Pass the word along, boys, and 
let’s confab, to-night, and settle it. Time, about moon- 
up, in John’s shop. How’s that?” 

“Count me a mutineer,” said the ex-sailor, Samson, 
as he strolled toward his cattle sheds. 

“I’m with you,” echoed Marty, departing for his orange 
grove. “Mutiny’s an ugly word aboard ship. I’m 
told, but when psalm-singing Samson takes to using it 
right here on dry land I reckon the case differs. Any- 


SENOR TOP-LOFTY. 


37 


how, if it’s a bid ’twixt the little one and Top-Lofty, Fm 
for the little one every time.” 

Scruff knew the road home as well as another, and 
doubtless reasoned in his burro mind that the sooner he 
reached there the sooner he would be rid of his awkward 
rider. So he made all speed over the steep descent, 
though Mr. Hale used his own feet, now and then, as 
human brakes to check the creature’s pace ; and, whimsi- 
cally, remonstrated when the jolts became too frequent. 

“Here, you beast ! Hold on ! If ever I ride a donkey 
again just let me know it, will you? Keep that front 
end of yours up, please. Fve no notion of sliding over 
your head, just to accommodate. Steady, there, steady. 
I flatter myself I can stick if I can’t ride. And we’re 
getting along. We’re getting along.” 

Indeed, .much earlier than he had hoped for, they were 
on level ground and had struck out upon that road where 
Jessica had met the manager, and which for some dis- 
tance followed the tree-bordered arroyo — just then a 
river of sand only — leading straight toward a group of 
buildings and an oasis of greenery most welcome to the 
stranger’s sun-blinded eyes. 

“Sobrante ranch, that must be, and the home of my 
little ostrich rider. I hope she’ll be there to greet me, for 
a tempting spot it looks.” 

The nearer he approached the more charming it ap- 
peared, with its one modern, vine-covered cottage, and 
its long stretches of low adobe structures — enough to 
form a village in themselves — and as dingily ancient as 
the other was freshly modern. 


88 


JESSICA TRENT. 


In reality, these old adobes were remnants of a long- 
abandoned mission, but still in such excellent repair that 
they were utilized for the ranchmen s quarters and for 
the business of the great estate. Antonio Bernal was the 
only one of all the employees who had his own rooms at 
‘hhe house,” as the cottage was called where the Trents 
themselves lived. 

From the kitchen of this attractive ‘"house” now floated 
a delectable odor of well-cooked food, and with the re- 
flection that he was always hungry nowadays, the visitor 
crossed to its open window ; there came, also, a girlish 
voice, explaining : 

“Yes, mother. I’m sure he was a gentleman, though he 
didn’t look well. I told him you weren’t fond of stran- 
gers and had little time to give them, but that I thought 
you’d make him welcome. Indeed, there’s nowhere else 
for him to go, since his horse is lame and we so far from 
everybody. He lost his trail, he said. Was I right?” 

Then his shadow fell across the sun-lighted floor and 
Jessica faced about. With a whisk of the saucepan, in 
which she was scrambling eggs, she added: “Well, 
right or wrong, here he is !” But she was talking to 
empty air, for her mother had disappeared. 





“Tm ^lad yoiiVe gotten here all safe. 


(See page 39) 








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CHAPTER IV. 


AN INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 

The young ranchwoman placed her pan in safety and 
ran out upon that north porch, where the table was 
already spread, to meet the visitor. 

“Oh ! Pm glad you’ve gotten here all safe. How did 
you do it? It’s a long walk for those who aren’t used to 
it. Even for those who are, too. Did you ride your 
horse? Was he better?” 

She rattled off her questions without waiting for re- 
plies and to give him time to recover his breath, which 
he seemed to have lost. Then she poured him a glass of 
milk and urged him to drink it, with the remark : 

“That’s Blandina’s own. She’s the house-cow. You’ll 
find it delicious. Don’t you?” 

“It’s fine milk,” answered the other, cautiously; “but, 
if it isn’t too much trouble, a bit of ice would improve it.” 

“Ice? Why, where could I get ice ? Sometimes, in the 
winter, a little forms along the arroyo, but now — I’m 
very sorry, indeed. I’d be so glad to get it if I could.” 

Mr. Hale swallowed the sickishly warm liquid with a 
gulp and hastened to apologize. 

“It wouldn’t be good for me if you could. My com- 
pliments to your house-cow, and I’m very grateful for 
my refreshment. You have a beautiful home.” 

“Haven’t we? The prettiest in the world, I guess. 


40 


JESSICA TRENT. 


My father thought so and my mother loves it. So do we 
all, but to her it is dearest. Because, you see, father and 
she have made it all it is. Please, just let me move your 
chair nearer the edge of the porch. So. Now, look 
away off to the east. Father said there could be no view 
more uplifting. He wished that everybody who had to 
live in cities could see it. He knew it would make them 
better men.” 

Magnificent though it was, Mr. Hale found his small 
hostess more interesting than the view. 

“Your father ” he began, questioningly. 

“Isn’t here, now. He passed heavenward a year ago. 
Since then nothing seems just the same, and dear mother 
is often sad and troubled. You know she wants to carry 
on all father’s experiments, ' she doesn’t want his ‘life 
work to be wasted,’ she says, and Antonio isn’t able to 
get as much money as he used to be. She tries so bravely 
not to let it fret her, and I don’t see where she is. She 
was in the kitchen with me. We were getting the din- 
ner because Wun Lung, the cook, cut his hand, and 
Pasqual isn’t to be trusted. Of course, he’s a good 
enough boy, can make beds and such things, but — cook ! 
One must be very dainty to do that. My mother can 
cook deliciously! She taught herself everything and the 
why of it. When she and father came here they lived in 
that tiny adobe away at. the end of the second row. Do 
you see it ? By the old corridor. Their table was a pack- 
ing box and they had just a little camping outfit. Now 
there’s all this.” 

Jessica Trent’s sweet face glowed with loving pride in 


AN INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 


41 


her fair home, but this was as nothing to the tenderness 
which filled her eyes as they now caught sight of a tall 
woman in black coming over the garden path. 

“There she is, my mother !” 

Mr. Hale rose as the lady drew near and one glance 
showed him what model “Lady Jess” had chosen as a type 
of that “perfect” breeding to which the little maid as- 
pired. The mistress of Sobrante was a real gentlewoman, 
even though her gown was of cheapest print and her sur- 
roundings those of an isolated western ranch. Her 
daughter ran to cast a clinging, yet protecting, arm* 
about her, and proudly turning toward their guest, pre- 
sented : 

“My mother, Mrs. Trent, Mr. ” and smiling waited 

for him to finish the sentence. 

“Hale. I had forgotten to mention my name before, 
even though we have chatted so cosily. Permit me, 
madam.” 

The card he offered bore the inscription : 

“Mr. Morris Hale, Attorney at Law, 156 Broadway, 
New York.” 

Watchful Jessica saw her mother’s face pale, while into 
her native cordiality of manner crept that slight hauteur 
with which she regarded the most objectionable of “tour- 
ists.” This, then, was one such, and the girl was sorry. 
She had liked the stranger so much and was already plan- 
ning pleasant entertainment for him ; but if her dear did 
not approve of him her own opinion went for naught. 

Yet it was only the statement of the gentleman’s busi- 
ness that had caused Mrs, Trent’s momentary coldness. 


42 


JESSICA TRENT. 


for at that time, though her daughter did not know this, 
the mere suggestion of law or lawyers disturbed her. 
But she was quick to feel the possible injustice of her 
fear and to atone for it by a deeper cordiality. 

“You have come just in time to share our dinner, Mr. 
Hale, and we’ll not wait any longer for laggards. I was 
looking for the children. Jessie, dear, have you seen 
them ?” 

“Not since breakfast, mother. But they can’t be far 
away, for there’s Scruff yonder, trying to get into the 
alfalfa.” 

“Antonio hasn’t come up, either, since the plucking. 
I wish he would while the food is fresh. If you’ll ” 

“We needn’t wait for him, because I met him riding 
toward the foothills, as I came home. He’s probably off to 
the mines and that means an all-day’s trip. But I’ll help 
you dish up, and seek the boys, though they don’t often 
need seeking at mealtime. You sit right down with Mr. 
Hale, dear, and I’ll serve you. Pasqual can bring in the 
tureen, and I hope the eggs aren't spoiled by waiting.” 

“Is Scruff that mottled burro, poking his nose through 
that fence?” asked the guest. 

“Yes. He belongs to my little son, Ned, who shares 
him with his playmate, Luis. An inseparable trio, 
usually.” 

“Then I’m the cause of their present separation. I 
rode that animal down from old Pedro’s cabin and at 
his advice,” and Mr. Hale described his meeting with the 
two small lads, the fright they had given him, and his 
own desertion of them. “Though now Pm ashamed to 


AN INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 


43 


recall how readily I consigned them to a tramp I was 
unwilling to take myself. I wish I’d brought them with 
me. We could have used Scruff’s back, turn and turn 
about.” 

“Oh ! how could they ! One misstep and they’d have 
been killed.” 

“What is it, mother?” asked Jessica, seeing the lady’s 
hand shake so that she could scarcely serve the soup 
which formed the chief dish of their plain dinner. 

“Only another prank of those terrifying children. 
Bound themselves — or had help to bind — and rode Scruff 
bareback up the canyon ! They’re always ‘playing Indian’, 
and I wish they’d never heard of one. It’s that Ferd 

eggs them on. He ‘dares’ them and Excuse me, 

Mr. Hale. Mothers are anxious people. Try some of 
Jessie’s scramble, please. She is just learning to cook 
and likes to be appreciated.” 

‘‘But I didn’t see them, as I went up or down. They 
must have taken the long road around by the nortli end. 
Where the old Digger village is,” observed Jessie. 

“A forbidden route. It’s to be hoped they’ll follow the 
shortest road home. If they’re not here in an hour one 
of the men must go to fetch them.” 

Jessica laughed and kissed her mother. 

“Don’t you worry, dear, and do, please, eat your din- 
ner. Aren’t those children always having hairbreadth 
escapes, and are they ever hurt? Pedro’ll send them 
down in a hurry. He knows his mistress and her ways, 
and wouldn’t let her be troubled if he could help it. 
They’ll get no dinner at Pedro’s, and dinner is something 


44 


JESSICA TRENT. 


they’ve never missed yet. Hark ! Aren’t going to miss 
now ! Listen. They’re fighting along home in their 
regular fashion. By the sound they’ve about got to 
prickly-pear hedge. Hola! Ned! Lu-is I Oh! beg par- 
don. I forgot I was at table. Excuse me, mother, and 
I’ll bring in the youngsters — after a deluge !” 

Already there was an uproar in the outer kitchen, 
where two tired and hungry little boys were assaulting 
the unoffending Pasqual, diligently scrubbing away at 
his pots and pans. Any victim will do, at a pinch, to 
vent one’s wrath upon, and Pasqual was nearest. But he 
was not one to suffer patiently, and promptly returned the 
puny blows of his assailants with much more vigorous 
ones, till Jessica reached the spot, rescued the truants, and 
conducted them to the wash-basin. 

From there, disdaining the towel, they made rapid 
transit to the porch and the presence of the stranger. All 
along their enforced walk home they had laid plans of 
vengeance, among which “tommyhawking” and “shootin’ 
chock full o’ arrers” were the wildest. But, alas ! Now 
that their enemy was in their very power, they had no 
fiercer weapons than four grimy little fists. Better these 
than nothing, was Ned’s instant decision, and Luis was 
but Ned’s second thought. As Ned’s right descended 
upon Mr. Hale’s shoulders, Luis’ left delivered a telling 
blow upon the gentleman’s hand, uplifted toward his lips. 
This was small assistance to the yellow-haired chief, for 
the spoon flew straight from the victim’s fingers and 
landed squarely in Ned’s face. 

This created intense diversion. The blows intended 


AN INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 


46 


for the guest were now bestowed upon each other, and 
so impartially that neither side was worsted. Mrs. Trent 
rose in her ’place, flushed and apologetic, though the 
stranger was far more surprised than offended, while 
the sister had once more appeared and terminated a battle 
almost before it was begun. With a strength of which 
she did not look capable she caught up and lifted a child 
into each of the two high chairs in waiting — but wisely 
placed at opposite sides of the board. There they settled 
themselves composedly, beaming and smiling upon each 
other like a pair of wingless cherubs, while Ned thrust 
forth a tin basin and demanded : 

“Give me my soup, mother.” 

“Gimmesoup !” echoed Luis, choking over a piece of 
bread he had filched from Jessica's plate. 

“Children!” 

“Oh ! Huh ! Please give me my soup, mother.” 

“Plea’ gimmesoup, madr." 

“Isn’t your madre, Luis Garcia. Isn’t nobody’s mother 
but mine, so there !” 

“Humph!” remarked Jessica. “What about me?” 

This set Ned off into a giggle, in which Luis dutifully 
joined, and the laughter restored the best of feelings all 
around. The meal over, Mrs. Trent offered the guest 
the use of a room in which to rest, and this he gladly ac- 
cepted ; adding that he wished he might be able to make 
some arrangement with her by which he could occupy it 
indefinitely, till his health was restored and the business 
which had brought him to that region was completed. 
Any terms she would name would be most satisfactory to 


46 


JESSICA TRENT. 


him, for he was charmed with Sobrante and most anxious 
to sojourn there for a time. 

Jessica was already clearing the table, yet watching 
her mother closely, and was surprised to see a moment’s 
hesitation on the dear face before the expected and cus- 
tomary answer came : 

“We are 'always glad to make our friends welcome at 
Sobrante, and for as long as our simple life suits them, 
but we could not accept payment for our hospitality. I 
am glad you like our home, and Jessica will show you to 
the friend’s room at once. Tell Pasqual, my dear, to 
attend Mr. Hale and see that he has all which he requires. 
All that may be supplied at this isolated spot, that is,” 
she added, with a smile. 

Mr. Hale thanked his hostess and withdrew, but he 
felt that he had practically been dismissed from the ranch 
and that he had no past friendship to urge as a plea for 
any but the briefest visit there. 

Yet the cool chamber into which the traveler was 
shown proved so restful that the “forty winks only” 
which he intended were prolonged till sunset. Then he 
hastily descended to the lower floor to find that the early 
supper of the household was over; though Mrs. Trent 
had kept his own portion hot, and smilingly waved aside 
his apologies as she placed before him a dish of delicately 
broiled quail, prepared by her own skillful hands. 

“Why, this is a luxury! and to be expected only at 
some great hotel. By the way, where is the nearest one ? 
I should have been on my way long ago.” 

“I hope not. And you cannot well reach any hotel to- 


AN INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 


47 


night. The nearest is thirty miles away, and for a long 
distance the road is a mere track across the plain. Even 
those who are used to it would find it difficult to keep it 
on a moonless night, as this will be.” 

“Oh ! Fm so sorry.” 

The hostess’ face grew anxious. “Is it so important? 
I thought ” 

“Humph ! That’s another of my blunders. My regret 
is that I must force myself upon your hospitality 
after ” 

Mrs. Trent interrupted with a laugh. 

“I imagine we’re talking at cross-purposes. While I 
cannot make any guest comfortable at Sobrante ‘in- 
definitely,’ as you proposed, I should be disappointed to 
have you leave us hurriedly, Fd like you to inspect the 
ranch, thoroughly, and that will require at least a week. 
Besides, since I’ve learned from your card that you are a 
lawyer, I would like to ask your advice. Of course, if 
you are willing to give it in a business way.” 

“I shall be happy to serve you and more than happy 
to stay for the week you propose. I came ” 

But he did not finish his sentence. There rang 
through the quiet room the echoes of rifle shots, re- 
peated singly and in volleys, and accompanied by shouts 
and shrieks, so fierce and unearthly that Mr. Hale sprang 
to his feet while his hand sought his own pistol pocket. 

“Horrible ! In the midst of this peace — an Indian out- 
break!” 

A curious thrill ran through his veins, as if his sixty 


48 


JESSICA TRENT. 


years had suddenly turned backward to sixteen, and, 
with an answering cry, he leaped through the open win- 
dow and rushed straight into the arms of a man who had 
already reached the porch and was making for the very 
room that the stranger had just quitted. 


CHAPTER V. 


COUNTER REVOLTS. 

The collision staggered both men and gave Mrs. Trent 
time to reach the side of her guest and to lay a restrain- 
ing hand upon his arm. Her voice was tremulous with 
laughter as she explained : 

“It s only a rifle practice. The ranchmen and the chil- 
dren — all children in this sport — and always noisy. I’m 
sorry it disturbed you, but — Indians! How could you 
imagine it. Ah I Antonio, good-evening. Have you had 
supper?” 

“No, senora. But I need it.” 

“It is waiting. This visitor, Mr. Hale, Senor Antonio 
Bernal, the manager of Sobrante.” 

The gentlemen bowed, one with the brevity of a busy 
man, the other with the profound salutation of his race. 
But they parted immediately, for the Easterner was anx- 
ious to witness the shooting and the superintendent to 
break his long fast; and with disgust at his own readi- 
ness to fancy danger where none existed, Mr. Hale fol- 
lowed the sound of the yells and cheers. 

“Hi ! hi ! for the little one ! Hit him again, blue jacket I” 
shrieked Samson, as, steadying upon a tie-post the rifle 
he was too small to support, Ned sighted the bull’s-eye 
of a distant target, took a careless aim, yet struck it 
squarely. 


50 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Whereupon the strong ex-sailor thrust the weapon 
aside and tossed the lad in the air as if he had been a 
ball. Yet caught him as he lightly descended, and placed 
him astride his own shoulders. 

“Who'll beat the little master? Three times out o’ 
seven, with an iron heavy as that, how’s the showing for 
an eight-year-old?” 

But Ned slipped from the ranchman’s back, picked up 
his own tiny, perfectly finished gun, and swung it over 
his head. 

“Huh! That’s nothing! Huh! This the feller ! Huh! 
Guess ’tis. Shot more’n forty-’leven quails this day ’t 
ever was. Had ’em for my supper. Had ’em for the 
man broke his horse’s leg and stole Scruff. Hello, mister ! 
Had your supper? Wasn’t them good birds? I shot 
’em for you. I did.” 

“You?” demanded the gentleman, astonished. He had 
now joined the group surrounding the three children, 
and his presence caused a lull in the uproar which had 
preceded his arrival. “You ! Why you aren’t big enough 
to do such a thing.” 

“I did ! I did ! I never told a lie in all my life — never, 
never, never ! So, there !” and unable to endure such an 
imputation, the child rushed upon his traducer and 
pounded him well with the butt of his little rifle. 

“Ned! Edward Trent! Stop! You — a little gentle- 
man — mother’s son!” 

Jessica’s arms were about her brother, restraining his 
movements and for a moment making him drop his head 


COUNTER REVOLTS. 


51 


in shame. The next he had broken from her grasp, 
caught up another gun and dragged it toward her. 

“Your turn, Jess. Hurry up. There’s just an inch of 
sun left — I mean there was a minute ago — hurry up! 
Me an’ Luis’s got to go to bed quick as a wink 1 Hurry — 
hurry I” 

“Hurry up 1” echoed Luis, with a yawn, and dropping 
down where he stood, was instantly asleep. 

John Benton crossed to the visitor’s side and remarked : 

“Now, I tell you, stranger, you’ll see the sight of your 
life. If I was a betting man I’d back Our Lady Jess 
again’ any other girl-shooter on the globe. You just 
watch out — if the dark holds off a spell.” 

There were a dozen, maybe, of the ranchmen stand- 
ing or lying around in a semi-circle, but now all quiet and 
intent upon the little girl, as, nodding and smiling upon 
the guest and her beloved “boys,” she stepped into the 
open space before them all. “Forty-niner” Marsh, un- 
erring marksman and the children’s instructor, took his 
place beside her, examined her rifle, handed it to her and 
also observed to the stranger : 

“Now, if nothin’ happens, you’ll see sunthin’. Sorry 
it’s so dusk, but any gent what doubts is free to walk up 
to the target and look where the ball strikes. You, lady, 
do me proud.” 

“I’ll try,” said Jessica, simply. “Is it the little nail in 
the center?” 

“Just that.” 

She sighted and fired; and a ranchman who had run 


52 


JESSICA TRENT. 


forward to the target, shouted back across the darken- 
ing space : 

“Hit her plumb 

A roar of applause greeted this announcement, but the 
girl accepted this tribute with no comment save another 
nod and smile, as she waited her teacher’s next direction. 

This was given silently by a gesture downward. 

Instantly Jessica dropped upon the ground, rested her- 
self upon her elbows, aimed, fired, and — 

“Hit her again ! Hooray for Our Lady ! Hooray — 
hooray — hooray !” 

In his excitement big Samson seized Mr. Hale by the 
sleeve and compelled that gentleman to jog-trot across 
the open and view at closer range the wonderful skill of 
the little maid who was so dear to them all. 

“Stand aside. Psalm Singer. Your head’s in the way !” 
cautioned somebody. 

Still clutching his companion, Sam*son obeyed, and they 
saw Jessica now lying upon her back, sighting upward 
and backward over her head a small, white object that 
had been placed in the target where the tack had been. 
There was no cheering then, nor any movement among 
the eager watchers who fairly held their breaths lest they 
disturb their darling in that supreme moment of her suc- 
cess or failure. 

“But she’ll not fail!” thought more than one, and 
would have given a year’s wages that she should not. 

There was a swift rush of something through the air, 
so close to Mr. Hale’s nose that he visibly drew back, 


COUNTER REVOLTS. 


53 


and a double report as the bullet hit the toy torpedo 
which had been the chosen mark. 

After that, pandemonium; or so it seemed to Mr. 
Hale. Those gray and grizzled men — for there were few 
young among them — shouted themselves hoarse and gave 
way to the wildest expressions of pride and delight. As 
for Jessica, the heroine, though her eyes sparkled and a 
flush rose to her cheeks, she was by far the calmest per- 
son present. Even Mr. Hale’s heart was beating rapidly 
and he caught the girl’s hands and shook them violently, 
in his congratulations. 

“That was marvelous ! marvelous ! I’ve seen pretty 
good sharp-shooting done by professionals, but never 
anything so fine as that last shot of yours. How could 
you ever learn it, so young as you are ?” 

“How could I help learning? It is ‘Forty-niner’s’ 
work, a deal more than mine. He’s been teaching me 
ever since I could hold a tiny bow and arrow. He’s 

wonderful, if you please ; but I Well, it seems just to 

do itself, somehow. But I must go in now. Time for 
the little ones to be in bed. Come, Ned. Come, Luis. 
Oh, dear ! he’s fast asleep.” 

“I’ll pack him for you, lady. And say, boys, isn’t this 
the time?” 

Samson had lifted the sleeping Luis, tucked him under 
one arm and swung Ned to the other, but now paused 
to glance around among his fellow-workmen. 

“Time was ‘moon-up,’ ” answered Joe, minded to be 
facetious. 

“This would be ‘moon-up,’ if the old girl knew her 


54 


JESSICA TRENT. 


business,” retorted the sailor. “In ten minutes we’ll be 
with you. Come on, my lady. I’ve a word to say to you 
and the mistress.” 

The daily evening sport was over and the ranchmen 
rapidly dispersed, each to his own quarters, and none 
considering it his especial business to entertain the 
stranger, who was now strolling slowly houseward mind- 
ful of the sudden chill which came with the nightfall and 
of his own unfitness for exposure. 

Proudest of all, “Forty-niner” gathered up the weapons 
and carried them off, to clean and put in order for the 
next evening’s practice. He was well satisfied with his 
pupils’ achievements, though already planning more diffi- 
cult feats for their performance. The man was eighty; 
yet, while his abundant hair was white, his back was still 
straight and his step firm. The joy of his old age was 
the athletic training of the Sobrante children, and it would 
have amazed him, even broken his heart, had he been 
told that by such means he did not well earn his keep. 
He was eldest of all the elderly workmen that the late 
master of the ranch had gathered about him, and his ap- 
preciation of this good home in which to end his days 
perhaps, the greatest of all. It was, therefore, a terrible 
shock which awaited him, as, entering his own room, he 
lighted his lamp and saw lying on his table a white en- 
velope addressed to himself. 

He knew what it meant. Dismissal. 

One year before, when Cassius Trent died, there had 
been twenty employees where there were now but thirteen 
— he the “odd one” of the “baker’s dozen,” Seven times, 


COUNTER REVOLTS. 


65 


when least expected or desired, some one of these twenty 
had found in his room just such an envelope, containing 
his arrears of wages, and the curt information that, “by 
the order of Mrs. Trent, his services were no longer re- 
quired at Sobrante, nor would any wages be forthcoming 
from that day forward.” 

These men had all been friends, rather than servants, 
and in each case the result had been the same. Cut to 
the heart by the manner of discharge, and, for the first 
time it may be, realizing that he was no longer young, 
and, therefore, valuable, the recipient of the envelope liard 
quietly disappeared, saying farewell to nobody. 

“My turn ! My turn, at last !” broke from the aged 
frontiersman’s lips, and a groan followed. “Ten years 
I’ve lived in this old adobe cell till I’ve come to feel 
like the monk for whom it was first built. Now ” 

The white head drooped forward on the outstretched 
arms and all the burden of his eighty years seemed sud- 
denly to have descended upon that bowed and shrunken 
figure. 

In the pretty dining-room Antonio Bernal had eaten a 
hearty supper served by his own mistress, since Wun 
Lung was not to be found and the house-boy, Pasqual, 
claiming his usual hour of recreation at the rifle practice. 
But neither thought anything amiss in this, and the man- 
ager would, indeed, have asserted that it was quite the 
proper thing. Was not he a Bernal, and superior to all at 
Sobrante? Even though he was, for the time being, re- 
ceiving wage instead of bestowing. Well, it was a long 
lane that had no turning. 


56 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Pushing back from the table, Antonio had murmured 
the proverb in Spanish, with a smile of satisfaction light- 
ing his dark face, and Mrs. Trent had failed to hear dis- 
tinctly, though she was familiar enough with the lan- 
guage so often in use about her. 

“Beg pardon, I did not understand.” 

“Begging pardon, one’s self, sehora, it is seldom that 
you do. It is the business was never made for the small 
brains of the women, no? ’Tis the sehora’s place to be 
beautiful and let the business rest in the capable hands 
of I, myself. En verdadE 

Mrs. Trent colored and bit her lip. This man’s in- 
solence was becoming insupportable, and she could 
scarcely recognize him for the obsequious fellow who had 
been her husband’s right-hand dependence. His brief au- 
thority had turned his head, she reflected, and, again, 
that she must in no wise offend him. The welfare of 
her children demanded this, and forcing herself to smile 
as pleasantly as if his insult were a jest, she remarked : 

“The gentleman whom you met, as you came in, is a 
lawyer. A New York lawyer. J — I would like to consult 
him about our — this business you mention. I was born 
and reared in New York and have a feeling that anything 
which comes from there must be all right. Even a law- 
yer, though. I’m not fond of the profession, usually.” 

“The sehor is not wont to waste so many words upon 
her most humble servant, no. And as for the lawyers, 
have I not this day been to the consulting of the most 
eminent, the wisest of his kind, no? But yes; and the 
truth is, sehora — believe me, it breaks my heart so to in- 


COUNTER REVOLTS. 


57 


form you, but this barren rancho of Sobrante belongs not 
to the Doha Gabriella and her children, but to one An- 
tonio Bernal, even I, myself.” 

“To you! Belongs — to — you?” gasped the astonished 
woman. 

The manager shrugged his shoulders and tossed 
another Spanish proverb toward her : “What I have said, 
I have said.” 

Mrs. Trent felt her strength leaving her and sank into 
a chair, still gazing incredulously at the other, who now 
lounged back in his own chair and began to leisurely pick 
his teeth. It was a trivial action, but one wholly dis- 
gusting to the gentlewoman’s fastidious sense, and it 
angered her, which was a good thing, for her anger 
banished her momentary faintness and gave her boldness 
to dem?lnd : 

“The proof!” 

“It will be forthcoining, sehora, at the right time. Yes. 
Meanwhile, I am. content you shall remain, you and your 
little ones, until — well, say a month. By that date all 
things should have been arranged and the sehora will 
have found herself another home less lonely than So- 
brante. One so beautiful as the Doha Gabriella must 
have hosts of friends who ” 

Sehor Bernal paused. There were footsteps approach- 
ing, and the merry voices of children, and an instant later 
Samson was in the room, still carrying the little lads in 
his arms, and with Jessica clinging affectionately to his 
ragged sleeve. 

One glance showed tho faithful ranchman that som^- 


58 


JESSICA TRENT. 


thing was amiss. There was fresh sorrow, even con- 
sternation, in the beloved face of Sobrante’s mistress, 
fresh insolence in that of her chief assistant. He was not 
one to hesitate when his friends were in trouble, and 
turned to Antonio with an angry demand : 

“What have you been worrying your betters with now, 
senor ?” 

“Keep a civil tongue in your head, rascal.” 

“Returnin’ the compliment, if you please. All the same, 
don’t you know that a man — a man — doesn’t go around 
worrying women as you worry Mrs. Trent? You, that 
hadn’t a shirt to your back when the boss took you in 
and made you what you are ! I’m anticipatin’ a mite, and 
I don’t know just how some of the boys’ll take it, but we’d 
laid out this very night at moon-up — if there’d befen a 
moon sensible enough to get up, which there isn’t — to 
haul you and a few other matters over the coals and stir 
up a fresh sort of blaze. Now, I warn you, just you let 
matters slide, peaceable, and you — just you, yourself, 
keep that civil tongue you recommend, or you’ll light 
out of here so quick ye won’t see your heels for dust, dry 
season though it is. Hear?” 

“Hear? Yes, I hear. Now, ’tis your turn. You go tell 
those malcontents you call ‘the boys’ to take their packs 
and foot it. Times have changed. Things have changed. 
There’s another master here now, and not a weak-willed 
mistress. That is me — I — Antonio Bernal, owner of So- 
brante rancho and all that appertains thereto. Now, go. 
Vamos. Depart. Clear out. Get !” 

Samson went — as far as the long, open window, and 


COUNTER REVOLTS. 


59 


Stepped out upon the porch. He did not see Mr. Hale, 
who had seated himself in a rocker, an unintentional wit- 
ness of a scene he would gladly have missed, and putting 
a whistle to his lips blew a summons which was under- 
stood by every fellow-workman on the ranch. Then he 
quietly re-entered the house, folded his arms, and leaned 
carelessly against the door frame. 

Sehor Bernal started up as if he would forcibly eject 
the herder, but thought better of this and sank back 
nonchalantly in his great chair. Jessica had placed her- 
self behind her mother, and clasped Mrs. Trent’s shoul- 
ders with the protecting tenderness habitual to her. Ned 
had sprung to his mother’s lap and Luis continued his nap 
at her feet; while all seemed waiting for some fresh de- 
velopment of the affair. 

This came and speedily; for, in answer to Samson’s 
whistle, there filed over the porch and into the room, Joe, 
the smith ; Marty, the gardener ; and Carpenter John. 
There was missing old “Forty-niner,” commonly the 
dominant fifth of this odd quintet, but nobody won- 
dered much at that. Doubtless he was polishing his dar- 
ling’s rifle and making ready for some astonishing dis- 
play of her skill wherewith to dazzle the stranger upon 
the morrow. In any case he rarely disagreed with the 
opinions of his cronies and was sure to be one with them 
in the matter of that hour. 

With a respectful salute to Mrs. Trent, a grin toward 
the children, and a scowl for Antonio, these stalwart 
ranchmen lined up against the wall and stood at at- 
tention. Mr. Hale, observant through the doorway, again 


60 


JESSICA TRENT. 


noticed that each of these was well along in years, that 
each had some slight physical infirmity, and that, despite 
these facts, each looked a man of unusual strength and 
most entire devotion. Indeed, the gaze fixed upon the 
little lady, was one of adoration, and the situation boded 
ill for anybody who meant harm to her. 

“Ahem. What say, mates? Has the hour struck?” 

“The hour has struck,” answered John Benton, 
solemnly, shifting his weight from his lame leg to his 
sound one. 

Samson strode a mighty step forward and pulled his 
forelock. 

“Then I state, madam, that we here, on behalf of our- 
selves and our whole crew, now, and hereby do, throw 
off all 'legiance to that there Spanish skunk, a-settin’ in 
your easiest chair, and appoint Our Lady Jess, captain of 
the good ship Sobrante. Allowin’ you to be the admiral 
of that same, madam, but takin’ no more orders from any- 
body save and excepting her — under you, of course — 
from this time forth, so help us.” 

Then there burst from the trio of throats a cheer that 
shook the windows, and called a contemptuous laugh 
from the superintendent so valiantly defied. 

The cheer died in an ominious silence which Senor Ber- 
nal improved. 

“Highly dramatic and most edifying, en vardad. Senor, 
I kiss your hands in even greater devotion. But the 
play has one little drawback. To I, me, myself, belongs 
Sobrante. Already I have had the law of which you 
spoke. My claim I have proved. From the long back 


COUNTER REVOLTS. 


61 


generations the good title from the Mission Padres to my 
own fathers, yes. Sobrante? Si. More and better. 
Wide lies the valley of Paraiso d’Oro. Mine. Mine. 
All— all mine. No?” 

He rose to his feet and pompously paced up and down 
the room, insolently handsome and proud of the fact, 
while out on the darkened porch Mr. Hale had heard a 
word which set his own pulses beating faster and the 
row of ranchmen started forward as if minded to throw 
the braggart out of the house. 

But Jessica stepped forth and cried, triumphantly, 
though still with an effort toward that courtesy she de- 
sired : 

“Beg pardon, Sehor Antonio Bernal, but surely you 
are quite mistaken. My father taught me some things. 
He said I was not too young to learn them. He — he only 
— has the title deed to dear Sobrante, and I — I only — 
know the safe place where it is kept !” 

Antonio halted in his strutting march and for a mo- 
ment his face grew pale. The next instant he had re- 
gained more than his former confidence, and with a 
sneering laugh, exclaimed : 

“Seeing is believing, no? To the satisfaction of the 
assembled most honorable company,” here he bowed 
with mock politeness, “let this most interesting docu- 
ment be produced. Nf.” 

Jessica flew from the room and in an intolerable anx- 
iety the whole “honorable company” awaited her long- 
delayed return. 


CHAPTER VI. 

NIGHT VISIONS. 

When the tension of waiting was becoming intoler- 
able, and Mrs. Trent was already rising to seek her 
daughter, Jessica reappeared in the doorway. Her white 
face and frightened eyes told her story without words, 
but her mother forced herself to ask : 

“Did you find it, darling?’' 

“Mother, it is gone!” 

“Gone!” 

“Gone. Yet it was only that dear, last day when he 
was with us, in the morning, before he set out for the 
mines, that he showed it to me, safe and sound in its 
place. He was to tell you, too, that night — but ” 

“It was that, then, which was on his mind, and I could 
not understand. I — Antonio Bernal, he entrusted you 
and you must know ; where is that missing deed ?” 

“Deed, sehora? This day, just ended, is it not that I 
have been over all the records and there is none of any 
deed to Sobrante later than my own — or that proves my 
claim. In truth, the honorable Doha Gabriella is right, 
indeed. I was the trusted friend of the dead sehor, and 
if any such precious document existed, would I not have 
known it? Si What I do know is the worry, the 
trouble, the impossibility of such a paper broke the sehor’s 
heart. It does not exist. Sobrante is mine. He knew 
that this was so — I had often spoken r-” 


NIGHT VISIONS. 


63 


The untruth he was about to utter did not pass his 
lips. There was that in the white face of Gabriella Trent 
which arrested his words, as, clasping her boy in her 
arms, she glided into the darkened hall and entered her 
own rooms beyond. 

The “boys” had not moved, nor Jessica followed, and 
she now firmly confronted the manager, saying : 

“I am sorry to tell you, Antonio Bernal, that you are 
not acting square. My father did have that title deed, 
and I believe you know it. Somebody has taken it from 
the place where his own hands put it, but I will find it. 
This home is ours, is all my mother’s. Nobody shall ever 
take it from her. Nobody. You hear me say that, Senoi 
Antonio Bernal, and you, dear ‘boys ?’ ” 

“Ay, ay,” echoed her friends, heartily; but the super- 
intendent regarded her as he might have done some 
amusing little insect. 

“Very pretty, senorita. The filial devotion, almost 
beautiful. But the facts — well, am I not merciful and 
generous, I ? There is no haste. Indeed, no. A 
month ” 

“Before a month is out I will have found that deed and 
placed it in my darling mother’s hands. I may be too 
young to understand the ‘business’ you talk about so 
much, but I am not too young to save my mother’s 
happiness. I can see that paper now, in my mind, and I 
remember exactly how it looked inside and out. It 
seemed such a little thing to be worth a whole, great 
ranch. I don’t know how nor where^ but somehow and 


64 


JESSICA TRENT. 


somewhere, I shall find that paper. ‘Boys,' will you help 
me?" 

“To the last drop of our hearts’ blood !’’ cried John 
Benton, and the others echoed, ‘Ay, ay !’ " 

Antonio thought it time to end this scene and walked 
toward the porch, at the further end of which was another 
long window opening into his Own apartments. But he 
was not permitted to leave so easily. Great Samson 
placed himself in the manager’s path and remarked : 

“There’s no call to lose sight of the main business 
’count o’ this little side-play of yours. We boys come 
up here to-night to quit your employ and hire out to Our 
Lady Jess. We’re all agreed, every man jack of us. 
Your day’s over. Account of Mrs. Trent and the kids, 
we’d like things done quiet and decent. There’s a good 
horse of yours in the stable and though there isn’t any 
moon, you know the roads well. If you tarry for break- 
fast, likely you won’t have much appetite to eat it. 
More’n that, the senora, as you call her, has waited on 
your whelpship for just the last time. Before you start 
you might as well pay up some of our back wages, and 
hand over to the mistress the funds you’ve been keeping 
from her.’’ 

“Insolent! Stand aside. How dare you? Let me 
pass.’’ 

“I’m not quite through yet. There’s no real call to 
have talk with such as you, but we ‘boys’ kind of resent 
being set down as plumb fools. We’ve seen through 
you, though we’ve kept our mouths shut. Now they’re 
open ; leastways, mine is. This here notion of yours about 


NIGHT VISIONS. 


65 


ownin’ Sobrante is a bird of recent hatchin’. ’Tisn’t full- 
fledged yet, and ’s likely never to be. Your first idee was 
to run the ranch down till your mistress had to give it up 
out of sheer bad luck. Fail, mortgage, or such like. 
Oranges didn’t sell for what they ought; olives wasn’t 
worth shucks ; some little varmint got to eating the 
raisin grapes ; mine petered out ; feathers growing poorer 
^ every plucking, though the birds are getting valuabler. 
Never had accounts quite ready — you, that was a master 
hand at figures when the boss took you in and made you. 
You ” 

Antonio strode forward, furious, and with uplifted 
hand. 

‘‘You rascal ! This to me — I, Antonio Bernal, de- 
scendant of — Master of Sobrante and Paraiso, I ” 

“Master? Humph! Owner? Fiddlesticks! Why, 
that little tacker there, asleep on the floor,” pointing to 
Luis, “is likelier heir to this old ranch than you. The 
country’s full of Garcias and always has been, Pedro says. 
Garcia himself, when all’s told. As for Bernals, who 
ever heard of more’n one o’ them? That’s you, you 
skunk! Now, usin’ your own fine, highfalutin’ language: 
‘Go. Vamos. Depart. Clear out. Get!’ ” 

“I go — because it so suits me, I, myself. But I re- 
turn. New servants will be with me and your quarters 
must be empty. Let me pass.” 

“Certain. Anything to oblige. But don’t count on 
them quarters. We couldn’t leave them if we would 
’cause we’ve all took root. Been growing so long; be- 
come indigenous to the soil, like the boss’ experiments. 


66 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Thrive so well might have been born here and certainly 
mean to die on the spot. Going? Well, good-night. Call 
again. Adios” 

By this time Jessica was laughing, as her old friend 
had meant she should be. In his contemptuous harangue 
of the man he disliked and mistrusted, there had been 
more humor than anger. 

“Well, my lady, that did me good. Haven’t had such 
a thorough housecleaning of my mean thoughts in quite 
a spell. Feel all ready for a fresh voyage under the new 
captain. You rest run along and find that long-sufferin’ 
mother of yours and tell her the coast’s clear of that pirate 
craft. We’ve all shipped men-o’-war, now, and run up 
the old flag of truth and love. That was the banner your 
father floated from his masthead, and the colors that’ll 
never dip to lying or cheating. Wait. I’ll pack this 
baby Luis to his bed. Poor little castaway, that your 
good father picked up in the canyon and fetched home in 
his arms, to share the best with his own. Well, needn’t 
tell me that the family of a man as good as he was’ll ever 
come to want. Heave ahead, captain. Show” me the 
track to sail.” 

Jessica stopped to bid the other ranchmen good-night, 
then led the sailor to the little bedroom which the lads 
shared in common, and where Ned was already asleep, 
tucked in his white cot by his mother, who let no per- 
sonal grief interfere with her care for others. 

“Good-night, dear Samson. I must find that paper. 
You must help me. My mother must not, shall not, lose 
her home.” 


NIGHT VISIONS. 


67 


“Never. Good-night, captain. You’ve a good crew on 
deck and we’ll make happy haven yet.” 

That was Jessica Trent’s first wakeful night. Though 
she tried to lie quietly in her own little bed, lest she 
should disturb her mother whose room she shared, she 
fancied all sorts of strange sounds, both in-doors and 
out; and whenever she dropped into a doze, dreamed of 
the missing paper and of searching for it. 

One dream was so vivid that she woke, exclaiming: 

“Oh, mother ! I’ve found it. The black tin box under 
the three sharp rocks !” 

But her eyes opened upon vacancy, and there was no 
response from the larger bed where her anxious parent 
had, at last, fallen asleep. Yet the vision remained, 
painted upon the darkness, as it were, a sun-lighted, 
glowing spot, with three pyramidal rocks and a clump 
of scraggly live oaks. A spot she had never seen, in- 
deed, but felt that she should instantly recognize, should 
she come upon it anywhere. 

Then she curled back upon her pillows and again shut 
her eyes. 

Could it be possible that she, a healthy little girl, was 
growing fidgety, like Aunt Sally Benton, who sometimes 
came to visit her son and h^lp with the sewing? For she 
surely was hearing things. Movements, hushed footfalls, 
softly closing doors, creaking floors, at an hour when 
all the household should be at rest. 

“How silly ! It may be somebody is ill ! Wun Lung’s 
hand may hurt him, though it seemed so nearly well, and 
nobody else would have minded it. That stranger ! Yes, 


68 


JESSICA TRENT. 


I fancy it’s he. He may need something that I can get 
him, and I’ll go inquire.” 

Slipping a little wrapper over her gown, but in her 
bare feet, the girl noiselessly left the room and fol- 
lowed the sounds she had heard. These led her to a small 
apartment which her father had used as an office and 
where stood the desk in whose secret drawer she had 
expected to find the title deed. A small fireproof safe 
was in this office. It was an old-fashioned affair, with 
a simple, but heavy key, which the Sobrante children had 
played with in their infancy. She remembered her father 
remarking, with a laugh, that a safe was the most useless 
thing he possessed, for he never had anything worth put- 
ting in it; but it had been a belonging of old “Forty- 
niner” Marsh, a gift to his employer, and therefore ac- 
corded a place of honor. 

Before this safe now bent a man whom Jessica recog- 
nized with surprise and relief. 

“Why, Mr. Marsh ! Is it you ? What in the world are 
you doing here at this hour ? Are you ill ? Do you want 
something?” 

“No, dearie. I’m not ill; and I’m not robbing you. 
And. I’ve got all I want. That’s one more look at your 
bonny face, God bless it !” 

It was close to his shoulder now, that face he loved, 
and he kissed it tenderly; though with equal tenderness, 
if less emotion, the little maid returned his caress and 
clasped his neck with those strong, young arms that so 
yearned to protect and comfort everybody. 

“That’s funny. Should think you’d be tired of it, some- 


NIGHT VISITORS. 


69 


times, I disappoint you so. But never mind. I’m get- 
ting handier with my new rifle every day, I think, and I 
mean to do yet what Samson claims I should — ^just beat 
the world. Have you finished looking at your things?” 
For it was Mr. Marsh himself who had always used the 
safe, even after giving it away. “Can’t I get you some- 
thing to eat, so you can sleep better?” 

“No, dearie, no, just one more good kiss — to remem- 
ber. Good-by. Good-by. It — it might have been done 
kinder, maybe, but — her heart is sad, I know, and her 
first thought is for you. She must save for you. Here, 
Lady, take the key. Some time you — you might want 
to look in that safe for yourself. . Good-night.” 

Jessica went with him to the outer door, wondering 
much at this oddly-timed visit. Yet the ranchman walked 
erect, still carrying his lighted candle quite openly, as one 
, who had done nothing of which to be ashamed ; and when 
he had departed the girl returned to her own bed still 
more wakeful because of this queer incident. 

Ten minutes later, it may have been, she heard the 
limping footfall of a slowly-moving horse, the echoes 
growing fainter continually. 

Again she sat up and listened. 

“That’s Mr. Marsh’s ‘Stiffleg!’ What should send 
him off riding now ? Oh ! I do wish mother was awake, 
things seem so queer. Yet I don’t really wish it. She 
has so many wakeful nights and just this one is more than 
I want. Now, Jessica Trent, don’t be foolish any longer. 
Go straight to sleep or you’ll be late in the morning.” 

Nature acted upon this good advice, and Our Lady 


70 


JESSICA TRENT* 


knew no more till a pair of chubby hands were pulling her 
curls and Ned’s voice was screeching in her ear : 

“Wake up, Jessie Trent. We had our breakfast hours 
ago, and the ‘boys’ is all out-doors, can’t go to work 
’ithout their captain. That’s me, Jessie Trent, ’cause I’m 
the ‘heir.’ Samson said so.” 

“I’s the heir, Samson said so!” echoed Luis from the 
floor where he was trying the fit of Jessica’s new “buck- 
skins” — the comfortable moccasin-like footgear which 
Pedro made for her — upon his own stubby toes. 

“He, he I What’s the heir Samson said? You’re a 
stupid, Luis Garcia.” 

“Stupid Garcia!” laughed the little mimic, not in the 
least offended. 

“Well, run away then, laddies, and I’ll be ready in a 
jiffy. Poor mother. To think that I should have left her 
to do so much alone.” 

As she threw open the sash of the rear window, Jes- 
sica started back, surprised ; for there, reined close to 
the porch, was Nero’s black form, with the dark face of 
his master bending low over the saddle. 

“Good-morning, sehorita, and good fortune. Those 
who hide may find. I kiss your hand in farewell, and 
may it rule in peace till I return, I myself, the master. 
One month hence I come, bringing my servants with me. 
Adios. Ah ! but what did you and the old sharpshooter 
at the office safe at midnight .^ When the sehora would 
seek her title, seek him. It is farewell.” 


CHAPTER VIL 


CAP'rAIN JESS. 

Jessica drew back, repelled. Why did that man make 
her so unhappy whenever she saw him nowadays ? 
What did he mean by that speech about old Ephraim 
Marsh and the safe? Well, he was gone, riding swiftly 
away and lightening her trouble with every rod of ground 
he put between them. 

‘‘He’ll not come for a month, he said, and by that time 
everything will be straight. If Sobrante is ours it can- 
not possibly be his. That’s simple. Though he might 
have lived here always if he’d wished. The title paper 
has been mislaid. That’s all. I’m sure to -find it when I 
have time to look thoroughly, and how different things do 
seem by daylight. Now, to say good-morning to the 
‘boys,’ dear fellows, and then for breakfast. I’m as 
liungry as an ostrich.” 

Though since sunrise each had been busy about his 
accustomed duties, neglecting nothing because of the 
change in command, it suited the ideas of these faithful 
ranchmen to report for duty to their newly appointed 
“captain” and to ask for orders from her. With the 
ready intuition of childhood she fell in with their mood 
at once and received them in a manner which robbed the 
affair of burlesque and invested it with dignity. 

From a shaded corner of the porch, from behind his 


72 


JESSICA TRENT. 


book, Mr. Hale watched the scene with an amusement 
that soon gave place to wonder and admiration. They 
were all profoundly in earnest. The fair young girl with 
folded arms and serene composure, poised at the head of 
the steps and the group of sunburned workmen standing 
respectfully before her. 

By tacit consent Samson was spokesman for the com- 
pany and his words had their usual nautical tinge. 

“We’re ready to set sail, captain, and here’s wishing 
good luck to the v’yge ! Old ‘Forty-niner’ hasn’t showed 
up on deck yet, but he’ll likely soon heave to, and the rest 
the crew’ll vouch for his being a good hand in any sort o’ 
storm we’re apt to strike. We’ve overhauled this chart. 
Each of us solemnly promise to abide and obey no orders 
but yours, captain, or the admiral’s through you. And 
would respectfully suggest — each man sticks to the post 
he’s always filled, till ordered off it by his superior officer. 
Right, mates ?” 

“Ay, ay.” 

“How’s that suit you, commodore?” 

“That suits me, Samson. It will suit my mother.” 

“As for pay — being as we’ve got along without any 
these .five months back, and Senor Top-Lofty ’s rode off, 
forgettin’ to leave them arrears we mentioned, we wash 
the slate clean and start all over again. For five months 
to come we’ll serve you and the admiral for mess and 
berth, no more, no less.” 

“Samson, do you mean that? Haven’t you boys been 
paid your wages regularly, just as in my father’s time?” 

“Come, now, captain, that’s all right. Give us the 


CAPTAIN JESS. 


73 


word of dismissal and let that slide. You missed your 
own mess this morning 

“But that will break my mother’s heart. I know ! I 
know ! I’ve often heard her ask him, and Antonio tell her 
— he said that your wages were always taken out before 
he brought what little money he could to her. I know 
you said something about ‘arrears’ last night, but I didn’t 
understand. What are ‘arrears,’ Samson?” 

“Blow me, for an old numskull. Why couldn’t I keep 
my long tongue still ! I only meant that we are willing, 
we want, we must work for you and all the Trents for 
nothing till we’ve made up part to ’em of what that sweet 
‘sehor’ cheated ’em of. That’s all. We’ve settled it. No 
use for anybody to try change our minds, even if there 
was spot cash lying around loose, waiting to be picked 
up and you havin’ no call for it. Not one of which con- 
ditions hits the case.” 

“You are a good talker, dear old Samson, and a long 
one. I can talk, too, sometimes. Maybe you’ve heard 
me ! You’ve read me your chart. Hear mine. It’s my 
father’s own — that he always meant, but was never able 
to follow. That I know my mother wants to follow for 
his sake, though she does know so little of business. 
Now, if we’re starting fresh, with the clean slates you 
like, we’ll put this at the top : ‘share and share alike.’ 
There was another long name dear father used to call 
it— I ” 

“Co-operation,” suggested John Benton. 

“Yes, yes. That’s it. As soon as he was out of debt 
and had a right to do what he would with Sobrante, he 


74 


JESSICA TRENT. 


meant to run it that way. But you know, you know. It 
was only that last day when he came home so late from 
that far-off town that he had his own ‘title’ and was all 
ready to do as he wished. Let us do that now. I know 
bow. He told me. He was to make you, Samson, respon- 
sible for all the cattle on the ranch. You were to hire as 
many of the other boys as you needed and were to have 
a just share for your own money. The more you made 
out of the cattle the better it would be for yourself. Isn’t 
that right?” 

“Right to a dot. Atlantic ! but you’ve a head for busi- 
ness, captain !” 

“I’ve a head must learn business, if Lm to be your cap- 
tain. That is true enough. It isn’t my father’s fault if I 
don’t know some simple things. He was always teaching 
^ me, because Ned was too little and my mother — well, 
business always worried her and he’d do anything to save 
her worry, even talk to a little girl like me. And as 
Samson was to do with the cattle, so George Cromarty 
was to do with the raisins and oranges. The ostrichs — 
Oh ! but they were to be Antonio’s charge. And now — ” 

“They’re yours, captain, with any one or lot of us you 
choose for helpers.” 

“Ferd knew much about them, and they minded him. 
But ” 

“Ferd’ll trouble Sobrante none while the sehor is away. 
Joe is a good hand at all live stock, and I’ll pledge you’ll 
get every feather that’s plucked when he does the count- 
ing. He won’t let any eggs get cooked in hatchin’. 


CAPTAIN JESS. 


75 


^neither. You can trust Joseph — if you watch him a 
mite.” 

A laugh at honest Joe’s expense, in which he heartily 
joined, followed this and Lady Jess stepped down among 
her friends, holding out her hands to first one, then 
another. Her blue eyes were filled with happy moisture, 
for she was not too young to feel their devotion to be as 
unselfish as it was sincere, and her smile was full of con- 
fidence in them and in herself. 

“Eleven years old is pretty early to be a captain, I 
guess, but ril be a good one — just as good and true as 
you are ! What I don’t know you’ll teach me, and if I 
make mistakes you’ll be patient, I know. One thing I 
can do, I can copy bills and papers. I can put down fig- 
ures and add them up. It was good practice for me, my 
father said. So I’ll put down your names and all your 
business in these new books he bought and was going 
to use in his co — co-operation — is that right, John?” 

“Right as a trivet.” 

“And our admiral, that's the dear mother, will not have 
to fret so any longer. Between us we’ll make Sobrante all 
my father meant it should be and — as soon as I have my 
breakfast — I will find that title. I must find it. I will. 
Sobrante is yours and ours forever. Oh, boys, I love 
you ! I’m all choked up — I love you so and I feel like that 
my father used to read in Dickens : ‘God bless you every 
one !’ ” 

With her hands clasped close against her breast, and 
her beloved face luminous with her deep affection, their 
little maid stood before her hardy henchmen, a symbol to 


76 


JESSICA TRENT. 


them of all that was best and purest in life. Their own 
eyes were moist, and even Mr. Hale had to take off his 
glasses and wipe them as, looking around upon his com- 
rades, great Samson swung his hat and cried : 

“And may God bless Our Lady Jess ! And may every 
man who seeks to injure her be — stricken with numb 
palsy ! And may every crop be doubled, prices likewise ! 
Peace, prosperity and happiness to Sobrante — destruction 
to her enemies!’^ 

“Forgiveness for her enemies, Samson, dear, if there 
really are. That will be nobler, more like father’s rule. 
Make it peace, prosperity and happiness to all the world ! 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah !” 

Mr. Hale clapped his hands to his ears, then hastily 
moved forward and joined in the cheer, that was deaf- 
ening enough to have come from many more throats 
than uttered it. Yet he had an uncomfortable feeling that 
he might be classed among those “enemies” whom Sam- 
son wished afflicted with numb palsy and that, at that 
moment, he was, by no fault of his own, playing a 
double part. 

But he gave himself the benefit of the doubt until he 
should learn, as he meant to do at once, the whole his- 
tory of Sobrante with its strange hodge-podge of indus- 
tries, its veteran employees, and its childish “captain.” 
So, while the ranchmen dispersed to their business and 
Jessica sought her long-delayed breakfast, he turned to- 
ward the kitchen where he hoped to find the mistress of 
the ranch. 

But he was disappointed. There was visible only the 


Captain jess. 


77 


broad, purple-covered back and black pig-tail of a China- 
man, pounding away at the snowy loaves on his kneading- 
board, as if they were “enemies” of his own and deserv- 
ing something much worse than “numb palsy.” 

“Wun Lung!” 

No answer, save the whack, whack, whack of the tor- 
mented dough. 

“Ahem. I say, John!” 

Whack, whack. 

“Wun Lung, where’s your mistress ?” 

“Dlaily.” 

“Indeed? I fancy your hand is better. I’m glad of it. 
That bread ought to be fine. At your leisure, kindly 
point the direction of the ‘dlaily,’ will you?” 

One yellow, floury hand was lifted and extended east- 
ward, but as this signified nothing definite to the stranger 
he continued his inquiries. 

“Where’s Pasqual?” 

“Sclub.” 

“And the little boys?’’ 

“Alle glone.” 

“I congratulate you on your English, though I’m un- 
certain whether you mean me to ‘go on’ or assert that 
somebody else has gone on. I don’t like to disturb Miss 
Jessica at breakfast, but ” 

“Back polchee,” suggested Wun Lung, anxious to be 
rid of the intruder, whose irony he suspected if he did not 
understand. 

Mr. Hale betook himself around the house, and, for- 
tunately, in the right direction; for just issuing from her 


?8 


JESSICA TRENT. 


dairy, which was in a cellar under the cottage, was Mrs. 
Trent, bearing a wooden bowl of freshly made butter. 

The guest’s heart smote him as he saw her sad face 
brighten at meeting him, for he knew she trusted him for 
help he was in duty bound to give elsewhere. But it was 
not a lawyer’s habit to anticipate evil, and he was thank- 
ful for her suggestion. 

“You should have a ride this fine morning, Mr. Hale, 
before the sun is too high. I’ve ordered a horse brought 
round for you at nine o’clock, and Jessica shall act your 
guide, on Scruf¥. That is — if the laddies haven’t already 
disappeared with him. Ah ! here comes my girl, herself. 
You are to show our friend as much of Sobrante as he 
cares to see, in one morning, daughter. If the children 
have ridden the burro off you may have Buster saddled.” 

“Shan’t you need me, mother? One of the men ” 

“No, dear. Wun Lung is at his post again and Pasqual 
will do the milk and things. But as you go. I’d like you 
to take this butter to John’s. It’s the weekly portion for 
the men, who mess for themselves,” she explained to the 
stranger. 

“Lucky men to fare on such golden balls as those !” 

“Come and see my dairy. I’m very proud of it. You 
know, I suppose, that cellars are rarities in California. 
Everything is built above ground, in ordinary homes; 
but I needed a cooler place for the milk, and my hus- 
band had this planned for me. See the water, our 
greatest luxury; piped from an artesian well to the tank 
above, and then down through these cooling pipes around 
the shelves. After such use supplying the garden, for 


CAPTAIN JESS. 


79 


whatever else may be wasted here it is never a drop of 
water. Will you taste the buttermilk? I can’t give you 
ice, but we cool it in earthen crocks sunk in the floor.” 

More and more did the lawyer’s admiration for his 
hostess increase. She displayed the prosaic details of her 
dairy with the same ease and pride with which she would 
have exhibited the choicest bric-a-brac of a sumptuous 
drawing-room, and her manner impelled him to an in- 
terest in the place which he would have found impossible 
under other circumstances. But above all he wondered at 
the unselfishness with which she set aside her own anxie- 
ties and gave herself wholly to the entertainment of her 
guest. 

‘‘The loss of that title deed means ruin for her and her 
family — even if I were not also compelled to bring dis- 
tress upon her. But she does not whine nor complain, 
and that’s going to make my task all the harder. Well, 
first to see this ranch, and then — I wish I’d never come 
upon this business! Better suffer nervous dyspepsia all 
the rest of my life than break such a woman’s heart. Her 
husband may have been a scamp of the first water, but 
she’s a lady and a Christian. So is that beautiful little 
girl, and it’s from her I mean to get all my needed in- 
formation.” 

Absorbed in thoughts that were far from pleasant, the 
gentleman walked beside Mrs. Trent to the horseblock, 
and mounted the horse which a gray-haired stable ‘Toy” 
was holding for him, all without rousing from the pre- 
occupation that held him. It was not till he heard Jes- 
sica’s excited call coming over the space between the cot- 


80 


JESSICA TRENT. 


tage and the “quarters” that he realized where he was 
and looked up, expectant. 

The little girl who had left them for a few moments, 
was galloping toward them on the back of a rough-coated 
broncho, waving a paper in her hand and with distressed 
indignation, crying out as she came : 

“ ‘Forty-niner’ has gone ! Dear old ‘Forty-niner !’ I 
found this letter in his room and it’s forever — forever ! 
Oh, mother ! And he says you discharged him — or it 
means that — without show or chance! Mother, mother, 
how could you? That dear old man that everybody 
loved !” 

“Discharged him — I? I should as soon have thought 
of discharging myself ! What fresh distress is this ?” 

Catching the paper from Jessica’s hand Mrs. Trent 
read it, then turned and without a word walked slowly 
into the house. But her head was giddy and her limbs 
trembled, and she had a strange feeling as if she were 
being swiftly inclosed in a net from which she could not 
escape. 


/ 


CHAPTER VIIL 


IN THE miner's CABIN. 

“Forgive me, mother ! I oughtn’t to have told it that 
way. But what does it mean? Why should you want 
him to go?” 

“Did you not hear me say I would not have dismissed 
him? No, dear. There is something in this I don’t 
understand. How do we know but that all the other 
‘boys’ who left so suddenly have been deceived in just 
this way? As long as there was food enough to eat and 
a roof to shelter them the men whom your father be- 
friended and who, in turn have befriended us, were as 
welcome to Sobrante as my own children. I must think 
this over. We must then find Ephraim and bring him 
back. We must. There ! We’ll not discuss it any more 
at present. You are keeping Mr. Hale waiting and that 
is rudeness. Go, now, and explain all your father’s plans 
to him, as you ride.” 

“I’d so much rather stay with you. I don’t like to 
leave you now.” 

“I shall be busy and you’ll be back for dinner.” 

“I’d like to look for that paper — ^the title.” 

“When you come back.” 

“Good-by, then, and don’t do any hard work. I’ll send 
the children up to stay around the house. That will be 
one worry off your mind.” 


82 


JESSICA TRENT. 


When she had again sprung into her saddle, Lady Jess 
apologized for keeping Mr. Hale so long, and suggested : 

‘'Suppose we ride first to the mines, while it is coolest. 
Then come around by the olive and orange orchards. We 
can rest at the lemon house awhile. It’s interesting to see 
how they are cared for, or so most strangers think.” 

“Anything and anywhere suits me, for I’m full of cu- 
riosity about Sobrante. How did your father happen to 
take up so many differing lines of industry?” 

“Oh, they were all his ‘experiments.’ You see he 
wanted to do good to some sorts of people that nobody 
else seemed much interested in. Men that were getting 
old and were not rich or well. He was born in California, 
and he always thought it the land where everybody could 
find a place if he only had a chance. He went to New 
York and lived a long time, and he and mother were 
married there. He’d once ridden over this valley, on a 
horseback trip — just like yours, maybe — and after that he 
always meant to buy it if he could. So, when he began 
to lose his own health he came right away. He hadn’t 
much money himself, but he worked and mother helped, 
and he’d paid for it all before he died. It was the title 
deed which proved it, that he had just brought home and 
I could not find last night. Though, of course, I shall 
find it yet,” she added, confidently. 

“I hope so, my child. I devoutedly hope so. Yet if it 
was duly recorded the matter should easily be set right.” 

Jessica’s face fell. 

“I don’t believe it was. He said something about that, 
I didn’t understand it quite, but I know he said ‘re- 


IN THE MINER CABIN. 


83 


corded’ and that he meant to have it done the next time 
he went to Los Angeles. But — he didn’t ever go.” 

The lawyer’s face grew still more serious. Something 
of the love with which she inspired everybody was al- 
ready in his heart for this little maid, and thoughts of his 
own young daughters, threatened with the misfortune 
which menaced her, stirred him to fresh regret for the 
mission he had undertaken. 

They had now turned their horses’ heads toward the 
foothills on the north and he asked : 

“What are these ‘mines’ of which you speak ?” 

“For coal. It was an old man from Pennsylvania first 
thought there might be such stuff in the mountains near, 
and it’s worth so much here. Father had found him in 
one of the towns, with his wife and sick son. They’d 
spent all they had, to come West and try to cure the son, 
and were very poor. So, of course, father brought them 
to Sobrante, and the boy got better at once. They didn’t 
understand any sort of work except mining, and old 
Wolfgang couldn’t rest without trying to do something 
back for father. So he and Otto dug and picked around 
till they found a ‘vein,’ and then they put up a little cabin 
near and there they live. Their name is Winkler, and 
Elsa, the mother, is the quaintest little Dutchwoman. Of 
course, there’s never been money enough to work the 
mine right. All they can do is to get out enough coal for 
us to use. That’s why we always have such lovely grate 
fires in the winter time, that make the house so cosy. 
You’ll like the Winklers, and you’ll like Elsa’s coffee. 
Go there what time of day you will she always makes you 


84 


JESSICA TRENT. 


drink some, sweetened with the wild honey she gets in 
the hills and with her goat’s milk in it.” 

Mr. Hale made a wry face. 

“Oh ! you’re sure to like it. It is delicious, drank with 
a slice of her hard, sweetened bread. And their little 
cabin is as clean as can be. Elsa is a great knitter. She 
has knitted covers for everything, her beds, chairs, table, 
everything. All the furniture is made out of the wood 
they found in the hills, and when they’re not mining Otto 
carves it beautifully.” 

“Are all the people who work for you unfortunate? I 
mean, was’ some misfortune that which made your father 
engage them?” 

“Yes, just that. They are his ‘experiments.’ He said 
this valley was made for every sort of work there was 
to be done. All men can’t be the same thing, and every 
man was happiest at his own trade. Young men can get 
work anywhere, but dear Sobrante is a Home with a 
capital H, for anybody who needs one. My father said 
the more he trusted people the less they ever disappointed 
him. He’d proved his plan was right on his own single 
ranch and he was trying to make others do the same on 
theirs. , Paraiso d’Oro — oh ! you’re from that same New 
York. Do you know a — a Mr. Syndicate, I think he was, 
who owns Paraiso. Of course, I know in such a big city 
you might not, though maybe ” 

The listener started, then looked keenly into the inno- 
cent face bending toward him from the broncho’s back. 

“Suppose I do know a syndicate — a company — not an 
individual, which is interested in Paraiso? Can you tell 


IN THE miner’s CABIN. 


85 


me anything about such a place? Until last night I had 
no idea that I had come anywhere near to it, and then by 
accident, hearing Antonio Bernal mention it as his. Is it 
hereabouts ?” 

Jessica turned her horse about in a circle, rapidly 
swinging her pointing arm to indicate every direction of 
the compass. 

“Know it? It is there, and there, and there — every- 
where. The very richest tract of land in all the country, 
my father believed. Sobrante is the heart of it, he said, 
but the rest of the valley is even better than Sobrante. It 
is so big one can hardly believe. He said there was room 
in it, and a little ranch apiece, for every poor, downtrod- 
den man — not bad men, but poor gentlemen, like worn- 
out lawyers and doctors and — and nice folks — and make 
a new home in which to live at peace. He said there 
were plenty of people always ready to help the very poor 
and ignorant, but nobody so willing to help gentlefolks 
without money. That’s why he asked a lot of rich people 
he used to know in New York to buy Paraiso. He gave 
it its name, himself, and he believed that there might be 
really gold Somewhere in it. There’s everything else, you 
see. But it was a name of ‘syndicate’ he talked about 
most and was most grieved by because the money to 
buy it had not been sent as it had been promised.” 

“Poor child !” 

“Beg pardon?” 

“It was nothing. I was thinking. So this ‘Mr. Syndi- 
cate’ never sent the money your father hoped for ?” 

“No. It was a great disappointment. Antonio had 


86 


JESSICA TRENT. 


charge of all the letters, only he; so there could have 
been nobody careless enough to lose them had any come. 
Father left all the writing to Antonio, for he was nearly 
blind, you know. That’s how he came to get hurt. He 
could not see and his horse stepped over the ledge and 
somebody brought him home that way.' Poor mother !” 

‘Toor mother, indeed!” echoed Mr. Hale, with some- 
thing like a groan. 

“Thank you for caring about it,” said Jessica, quickly 
touched by his ready sympathy. “But she says her life 
now must be to carry on all father’s work, and I shall 
help her. In that way it will be always as if he were still 
with us. Oh I see ! That’s Stii¥leg’s track ! Ephraim 
Marsh has passed this way ! Maybe I shall find him at the 
Winklers’ cabin ! Would you mind hurrying, just a little 
bit?” 

“I’ll do my best, little lady. But I’m a wretched horse- 
man, I fear.” 

“Oh ! you’ll learn. If you would only let yourself be 
easy and comfortable. But, beg pardon, you do it this 
way — so stiff, with your hands all clinched. Your horse 
feels that something’s wrong, and that’s why he fidgets 
so. You should get Samson to show you how. He’s a 
magnificent rider. I’ll coax him to do some tricks for 
you, to-night, when we get through supper. I’m off. 
Just drop all care and let the horse do the work and — 
catch me if you can.” 

As they approached the foothills they had dropped into 
a little hollow where the sandy ground was moist and 
retained an impression distinctly, and it was thus that 


IN THE MINER^S CABIN. 


87 


Jessica’s keen eyes discovered the peculiar footprints of 
“Forty-niner’s” halting steed. But she quickly forgot 
these in the interest of the race she had started and was 
now bent upon nothing save beating Mr. Hale at the goal, 
the miner’s cabin. 

“He has by far the better horse. He ought to win, 
but he shall not — he can’t. He mustn’t ! Go, Buster ! 
A taste of Elsa’s honey if you get there first !” 

Bending forward the girl rested her cheek against the 
broncho’s neck and, as if the touch fired him with new 
ambition, he shot forward so swiftly that the question of 
winning was soon settled. However, Mr. Hale’s own 
pride was touched, and he put to the test the advice just 
given him, and with such good results that he, too, soon 
came in sight of a small house at the end of the trail, a 
dark hole in the mountain side, and a group of people 
eagerly surrounding his little guide. 

Indeed, Elsa had already drawn the child upon her 
capacious lap, and was tenderly smoothing the tumbled 
curls with her hard hand, while she asked endless ques- 
tions, yet waited for no answers. 

Till, suddenly remembering, Lady Jess demanded : 

“But have you seen our Ephraim? Is he here? Has 
he been here?” 

Elsa’s fat form grew quite rigid and her hand ceased its 
caressing stroke. Not for her to betray the confidence 
of one who had taken refuge with her. 

“Why ask that? What if he has and is? Is he not 
the old man, already? Even here there is no room for 


88 


JESSICA TRENT. 


the old. When one is fifty one should die. That would 
be wisdom.” 

“Elsa Winkler, nonsense! That’s not polite for me to 
say, but it’s true. You’re fifty, yourself, I guess, and 
you don’t want to die, do you?” 

Elsa shivered slightly. “When the right time comes 
and the usefulness is past. As the Lord wills.” 

Jessica laughed and kissed the woman’s cheek, then 
sprang to the ground, demanding : 

“Where is he ? For he’s mine, you know. He belongs 
to Sobrante just as much the sunshine does. If he’d 
loved us as we love him he’d not have ridden away in 
the night time just because of one little bit o’ note. 
Wherever you’ve hidden him you must find him for me, 
and he’s to go straight away back with me. With us, I 
mean, for here comes a — a friend of ours ; I guess he is. 
Any way he’s, a guest and you must make him a cup of 
your very best coffee, and Otto must show him his 
carved clock that he is making. He’s a pleasant gentle- 
man, and so interested in everything, it’s fun to tell him 
things. In that New York, where he came from, they 
don’t have much of anything nice. No ostriches, nor 
mines, nor orange groves. Fancy! and he doesn’t know 
— he’s only just learning to ride a horse!” 

As Mr. Hale now approached, this description ceased 
and Jessica presented him to her mountain friends : 

“This is dear Elsa Winkler, and ‘her man’, Wolfgang. 
And Otto — where’s Otto gone ? He needn’t be shy. Mr. 
Hale would like to see the carvings and the knittings, 


IN THE miner's CABIN. 


89 


and maybe, go down the shaft. But first of all, he'd like 
the coffee, Elsa, dear.” 

The portly Dutchwoman, whose needles could click as 
fast as her tongue, now thrust the stocking, at which 
she had resumed working the moment Jessica left her lap, 
into her apron pocket and waddled inside the cabin. 
Already she was beaming with hospitality and calling in 
harsh chiding to the invinsible Otto : 

“You bad little boy, where are you at already? Come 
by, soon-’s-ever, and lay the dishes. Here’s company 
come to the house and nobody but the old mother got a 
grain of sense left to mind them. Wolfgang! Wolfgang! 
Hunt the child and set him drawing a tether o’ milk from 
Gretchen, the goat. Ach ! but it shames my good heart 
when my folks act so foolish, and the Lady Jess just giv- 
ing the orders so sweet.” 

Wolfgang heard his wife’s commands and obeyed them 
after his own manner, by lifting his mighty voice and 
shouting in his native patois: 

“Little heart ! Son of my love ! Child, come hither.” 

But he did not, for all that, cease from his respectful 
attention to the stranger, for whom he had promptly 
brought out the best chair he owned, and whose horse 
he had taken to a shaded spot and carefully rubbed down 
with a handful of dried grass. 

Presently, the “child” appeared, and the Easterner 
flashed a smile toward Jessica, whose own face was 
dimpled with mirth; for the “child,” Otto, proved to be 
a gaunt six-footer, lean as he was long, and with a manly 
beard upon his pink and white face. He shambled for- 


90 


JESSICA TRENT. 


ward on his great feet and shyly extended his mighty 
hands. 

Mr. Hale grasped them heartily, eager to put the awk- 
ward youth at ease ; and, nodding toward the chair from 
which he had risen, exclaimed : 

''So, you are he who does that beautiful carving! I 
congratulate you on your skill, and I hope you will have 
some trifle of your work to sell a traveler. I’ve never 
seen finer.” 

Otto flushed with pleasure and was about to reply, 
but again Elsa commanded : 

"Milk the goat, little one. After the guest feeds let 
the household talk.” 

As if he had been the "child,” the '‘little heart,” his 
parents called him he obediently entered the cabin, tied 
an apron before his lank body and spread a tablecloth. 
Then, as deftly as if he had been a girl, he arranged it 
with the three cups and plates the family possessed, took 
his mother’s cherished spoons from her chest, and, tak- 
ing a small pail, sought the goat, Gretchen. 

"Now, Tm in for it,” thought Mr. Hale, regretfully. 
"My poor dyspepsia! Coffee, honey, and goat’s milk! 
A combination to kill. But even if it is, one must re- 
spond to such whole-souled hospitality as this.” 

Jessica had no such qualms ; and, indeed, the refresh- 
ment which her visitor forced himself to accept was far 
more palatable than he had dared expect ; and, besides, he 
now brought to it- that astonishing appetite which had 
come to him on this eventful trip. When the luncheon 


IN THE miner's CABIN. 


91 


was disposed of, Dame Elsa held an exhibition of her 
wonderful knitting and it seemed to the unappreciative 
stranger that a small fortune must have been expended 
in yarns, and that even in this wilderness one might be 
extravagant and wasteful. 

“My wife would know more about such things than I 
do, but I should think you might easily stock a whole 
shop with your tidies and things.” 

“Man alive, do I not? Didst think it was for the 
pleasure of one’s self the fingers are always at toil? 
Ach ! Yet, of course, how could a poor man from a far 
city understand ! It is Elsa's knitting, and Elsa’s only, 
will all the tourists have who come to Sobrante ; and in 
that Los Angeles, so distant, where the master went but 
once every year already, there is a merchant buys all. 
Ay. See here. I show you !” 

“I — I don’t really care — I mean — ought we not to be 
going, Jessica?” cried Mr. Hale, hopelessly, foreseeing 
another exhibition of “trash,” as he considered it. 

But Elsa could not conceive that everybody should not 
be interested in all that concerned everybody else; and, 
besides, this was quite another matter. One for pride, 
indeed, beyond the accomplishment of the most difficult 
“lace work” or “overshot” stitch. 

From the same chest in which her precious half-dozen 
plated spoons had reposed she now drew forth a buck- 
skin sack; and from this, with radiant eyes fixed on Mr. 
Hale’s own, another bag, knitted, of course, and seem- 
ingly heavy. Sitting before him she spread her own 


92 


JESSICA TRENT. 


apron over her guest’s knees and poured therein a goodly 
pile of gold and silver coins. With a little catching of his 
own breath the lawyer realized that among these were 
many eagles and double eagles. 

“Why, this is wealth. This is money. I can see now, 
after our paper bills and ‘checks’ how real this seems. 
You are a fortunate woman. Dame Elsa. Now, I begin 
to respect your ‘tidies’ and notions as things of moment. 
Did you earn it all ?” 

“Ach ! wait. There is more already. This but begins ; 
and it is for the child. Some day, when there is enough, 
he shall this mine buy and the machinery hire, and the 
workmen. Then he will repay to the mistress of So- 
brante, and our Lady Jess, all that their dead man spent 
for us. More. He will make the great money — this but 
leads the way. Wait.” 

Trustful and eager of appreciation, which came so 
rarely into her isolated life, the woman thrust her hand 
again into the buckskin sack, her shining eyes still fixed 
upon the stranger’s face, and her fingers fumbling ner- 
vously in the depths of the narrow bag. Her excitement 
and delight communicated itself to him, and he found 
himself watching her broad, beaming face with intense 
curiosity. 

But — the face was changing. The light was dying 
out of the sparkling eyes, an ashy color succeeding the 
ruddy hue of the fat cheeks. Bewilderment, then 
anxiety, then terror. 

“Why, good Elsa, what is it?” 


IN THE miner’s CABIN. 


93 


*‘Gone — gone — but I am robbed, I am ruined! Mein 
Gott, man ! Little one — lost, lost, lost 

With a shriek the poor creature sprang up, and in so 
doing scattered far and wide the coins she had already 
poured into her apron, but heeded nothing of this as she 
rushed frantically out of doors. 


CHAPTER IX. 


AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT. 

While Elsa had been entertaining the stranger within 
doors Jessica had sought Wolfgang and compelled him, 
by her coaxing, to admit that Ephraim Marsh had been 
there and, also, that Antonio Bernal had ridden up that 
morning to give orders about the coal. 

'‘None of it is to be sent down to the ranch, he said, 
no matter who calls for it, till he comes back. He was 

going away for a time and How will you get on at 

Sobrante without him. Lady Jess?’’ 

“Wolfgang, better than with him. Listen. Look at 
me. I’m the ‘manager’ now. The captain. The ‘boys’ 
all elected or made me, whatever way they fixed it. I’m 
to be the master. I, just Jessica. Guess I’m proud? 
Guess I’ll do the very, very best ever a girl can do? 
Nobody is to be any different, though. You’re to go on 
mining just the same and John Benton says, quite often, 
it’s high time you had another hand to help up here. 
He says with coal fifteen dollars a ton there’s money in 
it, even if it is a weeny little mine. So, if you want a 
man, any time, just let me know. Ha !” 

With an amusing little strut that was mostly affectation 
the girl passed up and down before the miner, and 
ended her performance by a hearty hug. It was impos- 
sible for her to withhold her caresses from anybody who 


AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT. 


95 


loved her; and who did not, at Sobrante, save Antonio 
and Ferd, the dwarf? But she sobered quickly enough, 
and at Wolfgang’s petition to ‘‘Tell me all about it 
already,” gave him a vivid picture of the changes at her 
home. 

“But now Antonio has gone for a month, things will 
get straightened all out again. When he comes back 
I’ll have that deed to show him, and once he gets it out of 
his vain head that he is owner and not my mother, he’ll 
get sensible and good again, as he used to be. I wish I 
liked him better. That would make it easier for me to 
give up being ‘captain’ when the time comes. What 
makes one love some people and not love others, Wolf- 
gang? You ought to know, you’ve lived a long time.” 

“The good God.” 

“He Wouldn’t make us dislike anybody. That can’t be 
the right reason.” 

“Then I know not. Though I am getting old I’m not 
so wise, little one. But — ought I ? Ought I not ?” 

“What?” 

“Now you hark me. This Ephraim — guess you what 
that Antonio said of him?” 

“How should I? Yes, that’s not the truth. But what 
he said was so dreadful I wouldn’t even tell my mother.” 

“Ach ! A child should tell the mother all things. Heed 
that. It is so we train our Otto.” 

Jessica laughed. 

“Otto is no child. He is a man grown. He is bigger 
than you. You should not shame him by keeping him a 
boy always.” 


96 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“Pst ! girl ! I would not he heard you, for my life.” 

“He’ll not hear. Elsa is talking. But what did An- 
tonio say about my old ‘Forty-niner?’ ” 

“That much went with that old man besides his boots. ’ 

“Of course. The feet that were in them, I suppose. 
Silly Wolfgang, to be so impressed by a sillier Antonio. 
The boys say his Spanish maxims have little sense in 
them. That proves it.” 

“This deed of yours. He said : ‘Where Ephraim, the 
wicked, goes, goes their deed to the land.’ And more.” 

“What more ? The cruel, cruel man !” 

“That it mattered not already. He would come back, 
the master. It was his, had always been. My friend — 
your father — well, it was not we who listened. Nor for 
once would Elsa make the cup of coffee she was asked. 
Not a morsel got he here, save that the little boy ran 
after him and gave him his own bit swiebach lest he faint 
by the way. And that was the last word of Antonio 
Bernal.” 

Jessica’s laughter was past. On her face there was 
a trouble it grieved her old frjend to see, and he hastened 
to comfort her. 

“If one goes, some are left already. Come now to one 
whose eyes will be cured by a sight of your pretty face.” 

“To Ephraim?” 

“Even so.” 

He took her hand to lead her, like the tender babe he 
still considered her, and they passed behind the cabin, 
toward the rickety shaft leading into the mine. At its 
very mouth stood old Stiffleg, and in her delight the girl 


AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT. 


97 


gave him, too, one of her abounding hugs, which called 
a comment from the miner. 

“Beasts or humans, all one to your lips. Well, no mat- 
ter. It’s nature. Some are made that foolish way. As 
for me — old horses ” 

“Wolfgang Winkler, shame ! Now, sir, you’ll wait till 
you ask before I kiss you again !” 

“Then I ask right quick. Now! Eh? No? Well, 
before you go then, to prove you bear no malice; and 
because I’ll show you a new vein I didn’t show Antonio. 
Ach ! He’ll mine his own coal when once he comes — ‘the 
master’ — as he said 1 And so I think, though I know 
not, will all the others say. Sobrante will not be So- 
brante with us all gone. So?” 

“You’ll not be gone. It is my mother’s.” 

“He is big and strong. He can plot evil, I believe.” 

Wolfgang spoke as if he were disclosing a mystery 
and not a fact well known to all who really knew the 
Sehor Bernal. 

“I will be stronger. He shall not hurt my mother. I 
will fight the world for her and for my brother!” 

The miner had been arranging the rope upon the wind- 
lass and now held the rude little car steady with his foot. 

“Step in.” 

“Is he below? Down in the mine?” 

“Already.” 

Jessica needed no second bidding, but leaped lightly 
into the car and Wolfgang followed her more cautiously. 
He knew that was a forbidden delight to her, for Mrs. 
Trent was nervously timid concerning such visits, but, 


98 


JESSICA TRENT. 


like her, felt that the present circumstances justified the 
proceeding. Was not one below in the darkness, nursing 
a broken heart? And was not it the supreme business of 
each and all at Sobrante to comfort the sorrowing ? How 
else had he and his been there, so happy and comfort- 
able? So rich, also. Why, Elsa had 

“Lady Jess! Get Elsa to show you the buckskin bag! 
It has grown as fat as herself since last you saw it. The 
child will own the mine some day, believe me !’’ 

Moved by the thought he swiftly lowered away, and 
as the car touched the bottom, the girl sprang out and 
ran calling in the narrow tunnel : 

“Ephraim! My Ephraim! Where are you? Eve 
come for you, I, Jessica! It’s all a dreadful mistake. 
My mother — ah ! here you are ! Why down in this horrid 
hole, Ephraim Marsh? You’re all shivering, it’s so damp 
and dismal. For shame ! To run away from your best 
friends and never give them a chance to tell you. Who- 
ever wrote that note and sent you off from your own 
home, it never was my mother. Never! She said so, 
and it’s almost broken her heart.” 

“It’s quite broke mine,” said the old frontiersman, sob- 
bing in his relief at having been thus promptly sought 
and found by his beloved “lady.” For he did not know 
it was quite by accident that she had stumbled on this 
trace of him, nor did anybody enlighten him. Whether 
she would have set him right or not she had no chance, 
for, at that instant, they heard a hoarse cry at the mouth 
of the shaft and saw the car, their only means of ascent, 
moving swiftly out of reach. 


AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT. 


99 


“Heart of grace ! Why that? Hark the woman ! Tis 
the child ! It is the little boy ! Harm has befallen and 
I — the father — I below in the ground!” 

In his alarm Wolfgang danced about the narrow space 
and wrung his hands, gazing frantically up the shaft, 
catching hold of his companions and conducting himself 
altogether like one bereft of common sense. Which be- 
havior was sufficient to restore Ephraim Marsh to his 
own self-command, and none too soon; for the anxious 
father had already begun to try the ascent by climbing 
up the timbered sides when, suddenly, as if propelled by 
some extraordinary force the car shot downward again. 
Before it really touched bottom the shrieks had become 
deafening, and when Elsa jumped out and rushed upon 
her husband, he clapped his hands to his ears and re- 
treated as far as the chamber permitted. 

“She has gone mad, already! The woman is dement! 
Hark, the clamor !” 

Then he remembered his first fear and clutched his 
wife’s arm, which promptly went around his neck and 
threatened him with suffocation. 

“Well, well, I never had no wife, but if Ed had I 
wouldn’t cared to have her choke me to death a-loving 
me, nor split my ears a-telling me of it,” commented 
“Forty-niner,” dryly. 

At which Elsa’s screams instantly ceased, and she 
turned her attention upon him. 

“Where is it, thief? Give it up, this minute! How 
could you rob me of my hard-earned money ? That was to 
buy the mine — and the vein runs deep — for my little boy, 

L.oFC. 


100 


JESSICA TRENT. 


my child! ’Twas Antonio Bernal, the great man, told 
• us already of the deed you stole ! But I believed him 
not — 1. Now, give me my money, my money — money I” 

Overcome by her own violent emotion, rather than by 
any opposition of poor Ephraim’s, her hands slid from 
his shoulders, which she had been shaking as if she 
would jingle the cash from his pockets, and her plump 
person settled limply against him for support. 

“Hello, here, woman ! This is a drop too much ! Take 
the creature, Winkler, and find out if you can what in 
* misery ails her. She’s clean out of her wits.” 

Instinctively, Jessica had placed herself at the old 
sharpshooter’s side. He should feel that she did not be- 
lieve this terrible accusation, which recalled to her, with 
painful significance, the parting words of Antonio Ber- 
nal as he had ridden away from her window that morn- 
ing. These had practically accused him of stealing the 
missing deed, and now came Elsa with this talk of 
“money, money.” She brushed her hand across her eyes 
as if to waken herself from some frightful dream and then 
smiled up into Ephraim’s eyes, now bent inquiringly upon 
her. Dim as the light was, there was yet sufficient de- 
scending through the shallow shaft to reveal each troubled 
face to the other, and the old man’s own frightened at 
the confiding trust of his beloved pupil’s. 

“Never mind her. Let her scream and loll around, if 
she wants to. What matters it ? Little lady, am I or am 
I not a — a — that pizen thing she called me?” 

“Never 1 ’ 

“Then come on. Let’s get out of this.” 


AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT. 


101 


But he was not to be permitted to escape so easily. 
Elsa had now recovered her full strength and, oddly 
enough, her composure. She waved her husband toward 
the waiting car and he obeyed her jesture without pro- 
test, gently lifting Jessica into it, for she would not other- 
wise have been removed from Ephraim’s side. 

“Go with him, lady. Elsa won’t want to live down 
here and well follow presently. Never had a woman 
seem so fond of my company, not in all my eighty years. 
H-m-m !” 

Commonly, the most genial of men, the sharpshooter’s 
spirits had fully regained their normal poise. Since he 
had not been dismissed by Mrs. Trent, and since his little 
Jessica believed in him, everything was all right. Elsa 
had been hoarding so long for her overgrown “child” 
that she had lost her wits. He wasn’t surprised. She 
was a woman. 

So, with a smile, he was able to watch the car dis- 
appear upward, and he even began to whistle, lest Elsa 
should improve this opportunity and resume her racket. 

“No disrespect to you, ma’am, remembering the good 
victuals you’ve often given me, but kind of to keep my 
courage up, like the boy going through the woods.” 

Elsa vouchsafed no reply, beyond grasping his sleeve 
firmly, as if to assure herself that he should not vanish 
through the solid wall behind them; and he, at least, 
was relieved when the little car came rolling downward 
again, empty. 

Elsa, who understood its management as well as her 
husband, grasped its side and motioned Ephraim forward. 


102 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“Ladies first/’ he objected, gallantly. 

“Get in, wretch, already.” 

“Oh! I’m not loath to get in, now. Even your sweet 
presence doesn’t make this hole a paradise. And I came 
down here a heavy-hearted man, yet I’m going up light 
as a feather. Glad I’ve got you along to ballast, else I’d 
likely shoot clean up to the sky.” 

Poor Elsa thought his hilarity ill-timed. She glared 
at him first, then began to weep, and her tears sobered 
him as no frowns could do. 

“Look here, old girl, cheer up ! Likely it’s only a 
passing fit of madness has got you in tow. Women are 
kittle cattle. I’ve been told. Except Lady Jess and the 
madam. But they’re quality. It’s in their blood to be 
noble just as ’tis in — well, let that go. If you’ve lost any 
of your money, as you ’pear to think, you’ll find it again. 
Why, you’re bound to. Who is there to steal it save your 
own selves? Likely you've got up some dark night in 
your sleep and hid it away so careful you’ve forgot the 
place. Good ! The top and fresh air again, thank 
Heaven !” 

Mr. Hale had left the cabin immediately after Elsa, 
and though inclined to stoop and gather up her scattered 
coins had refrained from doing so, restrained by that 
prudence which becomes second nature to lawyers. 

“She thinks somebody has robbed her and would prob- 
ably accuse me of pocketing some of these. Too much 
money for anybody to keep in a house,” he reflected, for- 
getting that banks were not accessible to everybody. 
“But it’s an ill wind, etc. Now I shall be apt to escape 


AT THE BOTTOM OP THE SHAFT. 


103 


that promised visit to an amateur coal mine, and not 
endanger my life in their rickety car.” 

Elsa’s conduct upon reaching home was as curious and 
contradictory as ever. Instead of collecting her scat- 
tered treasure, she merely said, with a shrug of her fat 
shoulders : 

“What good? Let it lie. When the much is gone who 
cares for the little?” 

Then she dropped into a chair and began again to 
cry, disconsolately. 

Jessica could not endure the scene. 

“Oh ! I hate this ! Elsa, stop. Be happy. Nobody 
has robbed you. If there has ’tis nobody here. Em going 
home. I was having such a good time and I’ve found 
dear Ephraim. I’ll ask leave to come again to-morrow, 
maybe, and you’ll have it by then. Just as I shall the 
title. ’Tis only that you’ve been careless, as — as some- 
body else was. Good-by. We’re going. Say good-by, 
won’t you?” 

Elsa’s good-by was to seize Ephraim’s coat and hold 
it with all her force, but he was now too happy to object 
to this. 

“Certain, ma’am. If you’ve took a notion to it, I’ll 
leave it with you. Coats don’t matter, when hearts are 
light. Yes, look in the pockets. Like enough ’twill ease 
your mind a bit. I’d give her a dose of sagebrush tea, 
Wolfgang. Catnip ’d be better, but ain’t so handy. 
Good-by, all. I’ll be ’round again, myself, soon, if the 
lady can spare me,” and with this remark, “Forty-niner” 


104 


JESSICA TRENT. 


quietly slipped out of the loose garment and made his 
escape. 

There was no more talk of inspecting the ranch. The 
little party of three rode thoughtfully homeward. Even 
Ephraim’s gayety had ebbed and the strange accusation 
Elsa had made began at last to claim his serious atten- 
tion. Thieving was a new matter at Sobrante, though he, 
along with all the other “boys,” had thought for many 
months that the manager was dealing unfairly by his 
mistress and employer. This affair would have to be 
sifted to the bottom, and he didn’t like it. He was glad 
to be going back to his familiar quarters, glad of many 
things, yet his light-heartedness was quite gone. 

Mr. Hale was equally silent and self-absorbed. Every 
hour he spent among these people, like innocent children 
all they seemed to him, but interested him the more in 
them. Their unhappiness disturbed him and yet his 
own mission was to make them more unhappy still. 

Jessica was angry, indignant, and amused by turns; 
but these troubles were changing her swiftly from a care- 
less little girl to a sadly perplexed captain, and she rode 
along in silence, for most of the way, forgetting entirely 
that she had meant to take quite another route, or that 
her present errand was to exhibit the wonders of her 
beloved Sobrante. 

They cantered peacefully downward across the valley, 
old Stiffleg himself leading the way, till they struck upon 
the main road and saw in the distance a vehicle crawling 
forward upon it. 


AT THE BOTTOM OP THE SHAFT. 


105 


“Oh ! oh !” cried Jessica, who had been first to observe 
this object. 

“Heigho! What’s that — a circus?” asked Mr. Hale, 
gazing curiously at the strange wagon. 

Ephraim shaded his eyes with his hand and peered into 
the distance. Then he dropped it, and drooping ridicu- 
lously, groaned : 

“Oh ! my fathers !” 

“Looks like a circus. All the colors of the rainbow,” 
persisted Mr. Hale, glad of any diversion to his perturbed 
thoughts. 

“ ’Tis a circus, a temperance union, a salvation army, a 
woman’s rights convention, what Samson calls a Mother 
Carey’s chicken, an Amazon, a wild Indian, a — a — 
shucks ! There isn’t anything on earth that yonder 
doesn’t try a hand at. Land of Goshen! I’d almost 
rather turn and go back to be jawed by the Dutchwoman. 
And I’ve come home — just for this !” 

But Jessica was laughing as she had not laughed all 
day, and if the person driving along in front was objec- 
tionable to Ephraim it was evidently not the fact in her 
case. 

“Oh ! how glad I am I” she cried, and touched Buster 
to his swiftest gallop, while the sharpshooter grimaced 
and groaned : 

“To have come back to this !” 


CHAPTER X. 


AUNT SALLY. 

“Aunt Sally ! Aunt Sally, wait for me V’ 

At the shrill cry and the clatter of Buster’s feet the 
crawling vehicle came to a standstill, and from under its 
canvas cover peered the smiling face of a hale, elderly 
woman, whose gray head was bare save for its abundant 
crown of curling hair. A straw Shaker bonnet, with 
green curtain, hung over her shoulders. Her print gown 
was of brilliant pink and her capacious apron of blue 
gingham. She was collarless and her sleeves were tucked 
above her round elbows, but she was clean, as if just 
from a laundry. Indeed, at that moment, her conveyance 
suggested such an institution on wheels, for well-strung 
clotheslines were taut against its sides, and from these 
fluttered freshly washed garments and scraps of cloth. 

Aunt Sally saw Jessica’s eye fasten upon these articles 
and explained : 

“Met a little water cornin’ along and used it. Never 
know where you’ll be when you need water next — in 
Californy. How’s all ?’’ 

“Well, thank you. I’m so glad you’ve come.’’ 

“That’s a word to cure deafness. Here.” 

The woman pulled a gigantic cookie from her apron 
pocket and held it toward the girl, who had now come 
alongside. The cake was in the shape of a doll, with 
flaring skirt, and was promptly nibbled, 


AUNT SALLY. 


107 


“Well, I declare! Eat your playmates, do you?” 

“Yes, indeed, when you make them!” 

“Who’s that loping along behind?” 

“Ephraim, of course. Oh ! yes. A Mr. Hale, from 
New York.” 

“What’s he at here?” 

“Just staying. Lost his way and making a visit.” 

“H-m-m ! Don't look wholesome. Needs picra.” 

“I doubt it. He has a great row of bottles in his room 
and takes medicine every time he eats, or doesn’t. That 
is, since he’s been at Sobrante, which isn’t long.” 

When the wagon had halted on the road before them 
Ephraim had turned to his companion, with a whimsical 
smile, and suggested : 

“Better ride along as if we was glad to see her. It’s 
like a dose of that bitter stuff she makes everybody take, 
whether or no — get it over with. And she isn’t so bad 
as — H-m-m.” 

Mr. Hale was not sorry to do this, for his curiosity was 
roused. The wagon box was long and narrow, and con- 
tained as many articles as would have sufficed a family 
“crossing the plains” in the olden time. A kerosene 
cooking stove, a cat in a parrot cage, a hencoop, with 
mother and brood inside it, a trunk, a blanket and pillow, 
a pail for watering the animals, and a box of tin dishes. 
The cover, like a small “prairie schooner,” was patriotic 
in extreme, shining with the national colors, newly ap- 
plied by Aunt Sally herself, and with no stingy hand. 
The arrangement was also her own, and, as she consid- 


108 


JESSICA TRENT. 


ered, an improvement upon the flag; for she made the 
whole top a field of stars, and the sides of the stripes. 

“Instead of a ' little weeny corner full of stars, that 
you can count on your fingers. I’ve made a skyful right 
overhead. I always thought if I’d had the designin’ of 
Old Glory, I’d have made it regular, like a patchwork 
quilt — and nobody ever pieces a ‘block’ that way. Things 
must compare even, and so they would be if women had 
had a hand in the business.” 

This decorative turnout was drawn by a tandem team, 
consisting of a milch cow and a burro, with the cow in 
front. Which, after due introduction to the stranger, 
she explained, regulated the behavior of both animals. 

^‘With Balaam in the middle, and him inclinin’ to balk, 
and Rosetty in front, it works double-action. Them that 
use their wits is twice served. If he stops, the wagon 
runs onto him, and if she’s in a movin’ mood, that drags 
him. If she gets lazy, he butts her and thus, why — I’ve 
tried it both ways, changing their places more’n once. 
This is the best. How you like Californy ?” 

“Very much.” 

“Come for your health?” 

“Partly, for that.” 

“H-m-m. Folks with you?” 

“No. I’m alone.” 

“Maybe you’ve got no folks. Some hasn’t. Ephraim, 
yonder, is one. He’d be in a fix if ’twasn’t for Jessie and 
me. I come about once in so often and straighten out all 
the crooks. Took them pills, Ephy?” 


AUNT SALLY. 109 

Mr. Hale tried to repress a smile and failed, but 
“Forty-niner’’ burst into a loud laugh, and replied: 

“No, Aunt Sally, and what’s more I’m not going to. 
Why should I ? Who never have an ache or pain — that 
medicine will cure,” he added, looking tenderly upon 
Lady Jess and remembering his grief of the past night. 

“Well, you ought to have. ’Tisn’t human nature to 
live to eighty and not have. I’m twenty years younger ’n , 
you are and I ache from head to foot, some days.” 

“Asking questions sort of wears you out, I reckon.” 

“Now, Ephy, don’t get playful. Not at your age. It’s 
not a good sign. Besides, my hen chicken’s been crowing 
more’n once this trip. That’s a sign of death — some- 
where.” 

“Giddap, Stiffleg!” 

Ephraim urged his horse forward, meaning to fore- 
warn the “boys” of who and what was coming. Jessica 
comprehended and quickly followed, but her object was to 
bespeak a different kind of welcome from that he in- 
tended. Neither knew, then, just how heartily glad they 
would be before many hours were over of the helpful, 
yet disturbing, presence of this same masterful woman. 

The Easterner was left to jog alongside the curious 
team and its more curious mistress, who, even, while she 
held the rope reins in one hand, was threading her needle 
and sewing that patchwork which was as characteristic of 
her as the ceaseless knitting was of Elsa. 

In fact, when one came to look at her closely, there 
were seen assorted bits of cloth, fragments of some 
“block,” pinned here and there about her person; and as 


110 


JESSICA TRENT. 


he watched her nimble fingers fly from one seam to an- 
other the gentleman’s amazement found expression. 

“How can you manage to drive and sew at the same 
time? And is it necessary?” 

“I guess you’re a Yankee yourself, aren’t you? Well, 
if I hadn’t been able to manage how do you s’pose I’d 
ever have got my quilt done in time for the State fair? 
Fifty-five thousand five hundred and fifty pieces there’s 
in it, and I’ve willed it to Jessica Trent when I’m done 
exhibitin’ it. None of ’em bigger ’n a finger nail, and all 
done over paper. That’s a piece of work, I ’low. What’s 
your complaint?” 

“I — I don’t know as I have any. They’ve made me 
very comfortable and welcome.” 

“Dare say. They couldn’t do otherwise. Giddap there, 
Balaam. Rosetty smells alfalfa, and you’ll have to step 
out to keep up with a cow ’at does that. I mean what’s 
your disease?” 

“Oh ! well — it’s of no consequence.” 

“Man alive, don’t neglect yourself. You’re yallar. 
You’ve got the janders. Sure’s I’m a living woman that’s 
what it is.” 

“I think not. I hope not,” said the poor man, but 
rather feebly. 

“Sure. Or shingles. I’ve never seen a real likely case 
of shingles, and if it should be that. I’d just admire to 
nurse you. What victuals you been eating?” 

The dyspeptic winced. This sounded truly profes- 
sional, for all his numerous physicians had prefaced their 
treatment by a similar question. 


AUNT SALLY. 


Ill 


“I’ve been able to eat almost anything and everything 
since I came into this country of open-air living. The 
last thing was some of Elsa Winkler’s swiebach and 
honey-sweetened coffee.” 

“You don’t say ! Oh ! oh ! Poison, sir, rank poistjn. 
You may as well count yourself dead and laid out ” 

The unfortunate stranger shivered and turned pale. 
For some half hour past, he had been suffering various 
qualms which he had attributed to Elsa’s hospitality, but 
to tell a nervous invalid that he has been poisoned is to 
increase his misery a hundredfold. If Aunt Sally had 
desired a patient she was now in a fair way to secure 
one ; but her words were without any significance to her- 
self beyond the fact that she favored neither Elsa nor 
her cookery. Elsa’s knitting work had crowded her own 
patchwork pretty closely at that famous fair, and the 
handsome money prize, which she felt belonged of rights 
to herself, had been halved between the pair. Because, 
though their skill lay along different lines, they had both 
signed their exhibits : “From Sobrante,” and, manifestly, 
the judges could not give two first premiums to one 
estate. 

This memory served to change her thoughts from 
disease to a detailed history of the wonderful quilt, dur- 
ing which they arrived at Mrs. Trent’s cottage and 
dinner. 

But this could not yet be served. Aunt Sally must 
needs first see her son, and after the fondest of greetings, 
cautiously consign to him the care of her personal outfit. 
She even ran after him — as he walked away, grinning and 


112 


JESSICA TRENT. 


leading the now obstreperous cow — with a vial in her 
hand, begging : 

“Now, son, please me, before you eat that ‘mess’ of 
men’s cooking by taking one spoonful of this dandelion 
relish. Made it myself, purposely for you, and I’ll war- 
rant no alcohol in it, either.” 

Experience had proved that protestation was worse 
than useless ; so, with another grin, but a really affection- 
ate “Thank you,” John accepted the vial and once more 
started stableward. 

“Now, Aunt Sally, come! You must be hungry your- 
self, after your long ride,” urged Mrs. Trent, hospit- 
ably, and with sincere pleasure lighting her gentle face. 
Living so far from other women made the presence of 
even this uncouth one a comfort, and experience had 
proved that Mrs. Benton was, in time of need, that 
“rough diamond” which she claimed herself to be. 

“All right, honey; in a minute. I’ll just step out to 
the kitchen and pass the time of day with Wun Lung. 
Besides ” 

Jessica caught Aunt Sally around her waist — as far as 
she could reach- — and tried to prevent her leaving the 
room, but was lightly set aside, with the remark : 

“Face is next door to the mouth. Guess I want to See 
what sort of food that heathen’s got ready for us, ’fore 
I touch it 1” 

“Oh, Aunt Sally! In my house — can’t you trust me?” 
asked the hostess, with mild protest. Though she knew 
before she spoke that her will as opposed to Mrs. Ben- 
ton’s, at least in minor matters, was powerless. So she 


AUNT SALLY. 


113 


quietly brought a book and offered it to Mr. Hale, with 
the suggestion that he make himself content for the 
present. 

“The dinner will be delayed and there will be a rum- 
pus in the kitchen. But the dinner will be all the better 
for waiting and the rumpus will end in Wun Lung taking 
another rest while Aunt Sally does his work. Fortu- 
nately, she is a prime cook, and we shall fare sumptuously 
every day. Fd be glad to keep her here, always, if I 
could.” 

“Old Ephraim Marsh did not appear to share your 
sentiments,” and he described “Forty-niner’s” behavior 
and remarks at first sighting Mrs. Benton’s wagon. 

“Then you found him? He’s come back with you? 
Oh ! I am so thankful. Sobrante wouldn’t seem itself 
without that straightforward, honest old man.” 

“You are certain he is that?” asked, rather than as- 
serted, the other. 

“As certain as that there is honesty anywhere. What 
can you mean? Why do you seem so doubtful?” 

“I don’t wish to be a talebearer, but another of your 
adoring proteges is in dire trouble. Elsa has been rbbbed 
and accuses this unfortunate person of being the culprit.” 

“Such a thing would be impossible.” 

“So it seemed to me. Yet that old Wolfgang finally 
got it through his head — he appeared duller of wit than 
his wife — that to lose sight of Ephraim was to lose the 
money forever. Your little daughter promised to pro- 
duce him when needed, and after considerable opposition 
they allowed him to come away. I fancy they began to 


114 


JESSICA TRENT. 


suspect me even. I fear, madam, I have visited Sobrante 
at an unfortunate time.” 

Mrs. Trent was paying but slight attention to his 
words. Her mind was already disturbed by many inex- 
plicable things and would revert to Antonio’s insinuations 
which, without Jessica’s knowledge, she had also over- 
heard. After a moment, recalled by high voices in the 
kitchen, she rallied, and apologizing for so doing, hastily 
left the dining-porch. 

There were several gleaming pots and pans upon the 
oil cooking-stove and behind these stood Wun Lung, 
tenaciously grasping a meat dish and glaring unutterable 
things out of his beady eyes upon the excited woman who 
faced him, demanding: 

“Give me that platter, monkey- face ! Suppose I’ll put 
your dirty victuals into my clean mouth or anybody else’s ? 
I’ve tasted your stuff before. A burnt bairn dreads the 
fire. Hand it over. I’ll see if it’s fit. There ! That rice 
is boiling over.” 

The dish of savory lamb stew had been most daintily 
and carefully prepared after his mistress’ own minute 
directions, but Wun Lung now slammed it upon the 
table with much violence and seized the pipkin of rice 
from the stove. With undue emphasis he placed this 
beside the stew and, advancing toward Mrs. Trent, made 
several profound salaams. 

“Lat m’loman come — me glo. Good-by.” 

And for many a day thereafter Wun Lung served no 
more in that, his own beloved kitchen. 

Not a whit disturbed was Aunt Sally. Revolution had 


AUNT SALLY. 


115 


become as the breath in her nostrils. Wherever she went 
old orders were reversed and all things became new. At 
a little town, with an unpronounceable Spanish name, 
which it suited her to call “Boston,” she had her home- 
room in the house of a long-suffering woman cousin, 
whose ill health afforded her infinite employment, there- 
fore enjoyment. The invalid endured these ministrations 
because Aunt Sally also supported her, as well as ruled 
her; but she appreciated the rest which followed when- 
ever the itching of Mrs. Benton’s feet called their owner 
elsewhere. Between “Boston” and Sobrante the patriotic 
wagon vibrated, like a long-distance pendulum, and de- 
parting from either point carried everything belonging to 
its proprietor within it. “Boston” having become weari- 
some it was now Sobrante’s turn. 

“I haven’t been so happy since I first trod shoe leather. 
Now, honey, you’ll have good, clean fixings, with no 
opium nor rat tails in ’em,” she gleefully announced, re- 
turning to the table. 

“Aunt Sally, hush! What an opinion you’ll give our 
guest of my housekeeping!” laughed Mrs. Trent. 

“Pooh, child ! Anybody that looks at you’ll know you 
hate dirt. Now, eat, all. Only — you, Mr. Hale, I must 
insist you take a dose of this saffron tea. I steeped it 
while I was having that set-to with the Chinaman, for 
P thank my stars T can always do two things at once. 
And if I know the signs — Gabriella Trent, if that man 
hasn’t got the janders or shingles, or malary fever, don’t 
you tell me a thing!” 

“I certainly shall not tell you any such thing as that, 


116 


JESSICA TRENT. 


dear soul. The trouble is, Mr. Hale, Aunt Sally is never so 
happy as when she has a sick person to nurse. If nobody 
is ill she does her utmost to make somebody so, with her 
uncalled for doses and stews. But — once be ill ! Ah ! 
dear Aunt Sally, I know how tender is your touch and 
how faithful your watch. God bless you !” 

Not often was the gentle mistress moved to such emo- 
tion, and Mrs. Benton now put on her spectacles and 
regarded her hostess over them with a critical air. 

“Land, honey ! You must be coming down with some- 
thing yourself! I never heard that janders was catching, 
but, heart of grace, it might be! Yes, indeedy, it might 
be !” 

The delight of her tone was equaled only by the sparkle 
of her eye. To have come to Sobrante,, guided merely 
by the itching of a foot and to find two patients ready to 
hand, what mortal could ask more? 

Possibly, with the intention of helping on their timely 
disorders, she heaped her neighbors’ plates with the 
savory dinner, which was wholly due to Wun Lung’s 
skill, and not, as she fancied, to her brief supervision. 

When the meal was over. Aunt Sally retreated to the 
kitchen, after forcing Mrs. Trent to lie down and rest, 
“whether or no and to aid the lady’s slumbers, there 
presently arose from without the lusty cries of two small 
lads who had returned from some prank, late as usual, 
and as usual, desperately hungry. 

“I will have my dinner, so there, you old Aunt Sally! 
I will go tell my mother — I won’t be spanked — I won’t — 
I— I~I ” 


AUNT SALLY. 


]17 


“Wonbepanked !” screamed another childish treble. 

“Yes, you will, the brace of you. Spare the rod and 
spoil the child. That’s what Gabriella does, all the time, 
soft-hearted dear that she is. A good, sound spanking 
once in six months is all that keeps you in a state of sal- 
vation. If it wasn’t for me I don’t know what in reason 
you little tackers would grow up to be. One thing I do 
know, though, and so do you, and that is — that while 
your old Aunt Sally is at Sobrante ranch you’ll never be 
late to your victuals again.” 

In this events proved that the speaker was right, as, 
indeed, she had often been before on similar occasions. 

Knowing that this little family jar would result in no 
serious harm to her idolized son, Mrs. Trent lay still and 
thought, but did not sleep. How could she? What a 
subtle thing is suggestion ! 

Poor, overburdened Gabriella Trent had known and 
trusted old Ephraim Marsh for many years ; yet the words 
of Antonio, and now of this stranger within her gates, 
lingered in her memory and would not then leave. 

Up in his pleasant guest chamber Mr. Hale felt within 
himself the increasing vigor of returning health, tem- 
pered for the moment, it may be, by a little indiscretion 
of diet; yet the assertion of that noisy old woman below 
stairs, that he was, despite all, on the verge of some 
serious illness, so worked upon his still weakened nerves 
that he could neither sleep nor forget them. 

The result in both cases was unfortunate. 

That evening Mrs. Trent forbade her daughter the 
rifle practice for which, promptly on his return, Ephraim 


118 


JESSICA TRENT. 


had made special preparation. Her refusal hurt the old 
fellow, already sensitive from a previous injury, and he 
reflected, bitterly, as he once more sought his monkish 
chamber : 

'‘After all, whoever dismissed me was right. Tm too 
old for use. I’d better never have come back.” 

As for Mr. Hale, brooding and an unwise exposure to 
the night air on the previous evening, did bring on a 
slight fever. Worriment increased this and, like many 
men, he was impatient under suffering; so that when his 
bell rang sharply, demanding attention, he was in a fair 
way to require all that Aunt Sally or any other had 
to give. 

Meanwhile, down at the adobe quarters, other sus- 
picions were rife. 

“What is that man doing here, any way? He don’t tell 
his business, and he’s asked a power of question. He’s 
wormed out of one and another of us all there is to learn 
about this ranch, and he hasn’t let on a single thing about 
himself, except that he’s a lawyer from New York. New 
York’s a big village and all lawyers can lie. I’m bound 
to sound that chap before I’m many hours older,” said 
Joe Dean, bringing his hand down heavily upon the table. 

“I know a trick worth two of that. Set mother on 
him !” cried John Benton, gayly. “She’ll ask more ques- 
tions to the square inch than any other human being I 
ever met, and she’ll have all his business, family history, 
and present undertakings out of him before he can say 
Jack Robinson. Lucky for us she got that itching foot 
just when she did.” 


AUNT SALLY. 


119 


So it was agreed ; and thus, primed to the fullest inves- 
tigation, Aunt Sally and her curiosity established them- 
selves within their victim’s sickroom. When they 
emerged from it, at daybreak, the one had been fully sat- 
isfied — with horror; and the ruddy face of the other 
had grown white and heartbroken as no single night of 
watching should have left it. 


CHAPTER XL 


THE GUEST DEPARTS. 

“Well, mother ! What are you doing, waking me out 
of my beauty sleep, this way?” 

“Don’t speak to me, John Benton. This is no time for 
fooling. Not till I’ve got my breath, knocked out of me 
by the plumb wickedness of this world. That I should 
have lived to hear such things and not died in my tracks !” 

Upon leaving Mr. Hale’s sickroom. Aunt Sally had 
traveled as fast as her nimble feet could carry her to her 
son’s quarters, in the old mission, and had burst in upon 
his slumbers, with a mighty groan. 

“What’s up?” 

“You ought to be, for one thing. There, lie still. I 
can talk and you can listen — and you’ll need support ’fore 
I’m through. That man ! Oh ! that man !” 

“Yes’m. Which one?” 

“Shut up. You need spankin’ as bad as ever you did. 
But — John, John ! The vilest wretch that ever trod shoe 
leather ! The best, the generousest, the noblest — and not 
here to say a word for his poor self.” 

“Mother, your remarks seem a little mixed. If you’ll 
face the other way I’ll have on my clothes in a jiffy. 
Can’t ’pear to sense things so well, lying a-bed after 
daylight.” 

Mrs. Benton stepped outside the house and paced the 


THE GUEST DEPARTS. . 


121 


beaten path with a tread powerful enough to crush all 
her enemies, had they been in her way. Swiftly, heavily, 
back and forth, with clinched hands and grim lips, the 
woman was rather working her indignation to a higher 
point than allaying it, and as the carpenter limped from 
his quarters he saw this, and thought: 

'‘She meant it. No time for fooling when she’s stirred 
up that way. What in the name of reason can ail her?” 

After a plunge of his head in the water of the general 
washing-trough, through which a fresh stream was con- 
tinually piped, and a drying on the roller towel suspended 
near it, his wits were clearer. Finishing his toilet by 
means of his pocket-comb, he considered himself ready 
for her story and for anything that it might entail. 

‘‘Well, mother?” 

Aunt Sally paused and glared at him in such a vicious 
manner that he felt as if he were again that little boy of 
hers who needed the usual corporal punishment. 

‘‘Yes, but, mother — what have 1 done?” 

“Done? Nothing! Not a man jack of you 1 Let that 
viper warm himself at her very fireside, least to say, 
south porch, and not show him up for what he was. 
Land I The men ! I never saw one yet was worth shucks, 
savin’ hers and mine. If you was half the fellow your 
father was. John Benton, or that noble Cass’us was — oh 1 
if ever I wanted to be a man in my life I want to be this 
minute !” 

The carpenter darted into his chamber and reappeared 
with a vial and spoon. 

“To please me, mother, ’fore you say any more, just 


122 


JESSICA TRENT. 


take a spoonful of this dandelion relish. Made it myself, 
you know, and warrant no alcohol in it !” 

The jester was rewarded by a boxed ear, but he had 
effectually arrested his parent’s wandeiing thoughts, and 
she burst forth with her news : 

“That viper-lawyer-man has come to this Sobrante 
to accuse Cass’us Trent of stealing! lying! cheating! 
Cass’us, your best friend and mine. Says there’s a power 
of money missing, that was all consigned to him, to pur- 
chase that Paraiso d’Oro for a community and never re- 
ported on !” 

“What? W-h-a-t!” 

John had laid his hand upon her shoulder like a vise, 
and she began to whimper. 

“Needn’t pinch me, child. ’Twasn’t I said it. You 
told me to find out what he wanted here and I have. He 
pertends he lost his way, got off the road he was showed 
to take and met Lady Jess in the canyon. Says his own 
horse is up to Pedro’s sheep pastur. Says ” 

^‘And you let him? Had him right there in your power 
and didn’t knock his old teeth down his lying throat?” 

As John’s wrath increased his mother’s ebbed. She 
had passed her indignation on to another, as it were, and 
felt the relief of this confidence. 

“No, I didn’t. I left that for you to do. They was 
false ones any way and wouldn’t have hurt none. Hold 
on ! - Where you going, son ?” 

For the carpenter had started forward, as if intent upon 
instant and terrible vengeance, Neither of them noticed 


THE GUEST DEPARTS. 


123 


that Jessica had followed Aunt Sally hither till a girls 
voice implored: 

“Don’t ! That would let my mother know and it would 
kill her !” 

“Captain! You here? You understand?” 

“Yes — yes. They waked me, talking, and I crept to 
the upper hall to stop them, so they should not disturb my 
poor, tired dear. Oh 1 I heard ! I heard — every — single 
— dreadful word!” 

“Well, I’m going to fix him for it.” 

“John, wait — wait. I must think. My precious 

mother ” 

Jessica rarely wept. Now she flung herself into Aunt 
Sally’s arms and sobbed in a way that set the carpenter 
raging afresh. One after another the “boys” came out 
from the closed or open doors along the row. Some be- 
cause it was their usual hour for rising, others to learn 
the cause of these early voices. But one glimpse of Lady 
Jess in trouble grouped every ranchman about her and 
set each to hurling a torrent of questions upon that good 
woman, who held her, without pause for any answer. 

But John held up his hand and told the story. It be- 
longed to them all, as Jessica did, and the honor of 
Sobrante. 

They heard it with little comment, save groans and oc- 
casional mutterings, punctuated by fresh inquiries of 
Mrs. Benton. Considerable mystery had been thrown 
about her cross-examination of her temporary patient, 
and after all it had proved the simplest matter in the 
world. Concerning his own personal affairs he was pro- 


124 


JESSICA TRENT. 


vokingly silent, but he was as ready to talk about his 
business in that region as she was to have him when, 
after a roundabout preparation, she brought him to it. 

“I am in honor pledged to do my best for my em- 
ployers in the East, and unwilling to remain here under 
false colors, so to speak, any longer. Who is the most 
responsible person here, excepting Mrs. Trent?” had 
been his words. 

“I am,” promptly replied Aunt Sally. 

“Then you shall hear my story,” and he told it. 

The effect of it was to loose her tongue to its utmost. 
One may guess the listener heard himself portrayed in 
colors he failed to recognize and that he realized he had 
made a mistake in the selection of a confidante. How- 
ever, his purpose had been to do away with all doubt 
concerning himself, and to do this with as little distress 
to his hostess as possible. For that reason he had be- 
lieved a woman would be his best aid, but it proved that 
almost any ranchman on the place would have been safer 
than she. 

“Well, I ought to have known that a female who talks 
so much must say something amiss, and I can’t blame 
her for her indignation. In her stead I might have be- 
haved worse ; and the thing now is to get over this little 
weakness and go away about the miserable business, at 
once,” he reflected. Then he watched her hurry out of 
his room and surmised whither she would turn her steps. 
Therefore, he was not surprised when, somewhat later, he 
also left the cottage to find himself confronted by great 
Samson, quietly, but significantly, awaiting the stranger’s 


THE GUEST DEPARTS. 


125 


appearance. For the great fellow had naturally been 
appointed by his mates to “settle that critter’s hash and 
settle it sudden.” 

“Good-morning, Samson.” 

, Silence. 

“It seems so wonderful to me to wake and find this 
changeless sunshine, day after day, as if no such things 
as storms could ever exist,” said the lawyer, pleasantly. 

Samson’s grimness relaxed to a slight degree. “Some 
kind of storms blow in fair weather. Likely you’ll meet 
up with one sooner’n you expect. Step this way, will 
you ?” 

The sailor’s expression was so formidable that, for a 
moment, all the wild tales the lawyer had ever read of 
western desperadoes returned to test his already weak- 
ened nerves. But he was no coward, and knew that 
though in a most uncomfortable position, it was by no 
means a guilty one. 

“Certainly.” 

Samson led the way, if walking closely beside the guest, 
as a constable walks beside his prisoner, may be termed 
leading. Nor once did he turn his angry gaze from the 
gentleman’s face, and the riding-crop in his hand swung 
to and fro, as if longing to test itself against some enemy’s 
body. The walk ended in the ranchmen’s messroom, 
where Wun Lung, released from the cottage kitchen, had 
already been impressed into service, and was deftly pre- 
paring breakfast. Aunt Sally had disappeared, but Jes- 
sica was there, perched on a corner of the dresser, by 
which stood “Forty-niner,” with his arm about her. 


126 


JESSICA TRENT. 


All the other workmen whom Mr. Hale had seen were 
also present and an air of silent fury pervaded the whole 
assemblage. 

The stranger’s glance passed swiftly from one face to 
another and saw no kindness on any. Even the little 
captain’s eyes were bent downward and her lovely face 
wore a sorrow itmiade his own heart ache to see. 

Joe Dean lounged forward. 

“Stranger, have you broke your fast?” 

“No.” 

Another silence, during which the blacksmith poured a 
cup of inky coffee from the great pot, hacked off a piece 
of bread from a dusky loaf, and shoved them toward 
their unwelcome guest across the table by which he had 
sat down. 

“Eat, and be quick about it.” 

The color rose in the Easterner’s cheek, but he made no 
motion to obey, and after a brief waiting, seeing this, 
Joe threw the coffee out of the window and tossed the 
bread to the dogs. 

“There’s a horse outside. It’s for you. The poorest 
we’ve . got, because once you’ve bestrode him no decent 
man’ll ever mount him again. He’ll answer, though, to 
carry you beyond this valley, and Samson’ll go with you 
to see you leave it for good. Then he’ll turn the beast 
loose and may the Lord have mercy on your dirty soul. 
Get!” 

Mr. Hale did not stir. His own eye gathered fire and 
the pink in his face grew scarlet, but his voice was calm 
as he inquired : 


THE GUEST DEPARTS. 


127 


I still at Sobrante, the home of gentlefolks? By 
whose orders, please, this present dramatic scene?” 

“Yes ; this is Sobrante. The home of gentlefolks — you 
spoke the truth for once. The home of Cassius Trent, 
the truest man, the noblest heart, the whitest gentleman 
the good Lord ever made. The home of a man ! and not 
a free hotel for whelps ! Ugh ! If I had promised the 
captain — Lady Jess, let me off that word ! I must at 
him, I must — I willT 

Joe’s attitude was full of menace, but Mr. Hale neither 
moved nor took his own cool gaze from his enemy’s face. 
Though Jessica had taken swift alarm and leaped down 
to place herself beside the smith and clasp his hand with 
her own. 

“No, no. You promised, and I’m your captain. Sol- 
diers obey their captains and you chose me yourself. 
You are not to hurt him nor abuse him, though, I, too” — 
here she wheeled about and faced her guest, crying: 
“hate you, hate you! Oh! that’s yvicked. That’s rude. 
But, sir, how dared you say my father — the best man ever 
lived — kept — took — it isn’t true, it isn’t !” 

The lawyer rose, somewhat unsteadily. The sight of 
the daughter’s grief disturbed his calmness more than 
the affronts offered him by her bearded henchmen. It 
was to her that he addressed the question: 

“Am I permitted to say a word in my own behalf. 
Captain Jessica?” 

A growl ran around the room, but she held up her 
small hand, protestingly. 


128 


JESSICA TRENT. 


‘‘Yes. That’s fair. My father always taught me to be 
fair. I’m sorry I was — I wasn’t polite ” 

“No, you aren’t !” shouted Samson. “Don’t you dare 
be sorry for anything but the kindness you’ve showed that 
skunk !” 

“Samson, it was you made me captain !” 

“All right. I give in. Be as fair as you like, I can’t 
help it.” 

“Tell us all there is to tell. As you told Aunt Sally.” 

“Thank you, captain. I’ll be brief. I came to Cali- 
fornia, representing a comany, a syndicate, which had 
advanced large sums of money to purchase, improve, and 
stock a vast tract of land called Paraiso d’Oro. Though 
for a time due receipts and reports had been returned to 
the syndicate for several months these had entirely ceased. 
Unfortunately, the company had implicit faith in their 
consignee, and Paraiso d’Oro was but one of their many 
enterprises. I had been their legal adviser in other mat- 
ters, and when my health failed from overwork, they sug- 
gested that I should come here and investigate their 
affairs, while I could recuperate at the same time. 

“I set out on horseback from Los Angeles, my tem- 
porary headquarters, without a guide and with many 
erroneous notions concerning both the State and its 
people. You see, though I’d lived at the center of our 
national civilization ” 

“You’re forgettin’ Californy !” cried somebody. 

“I’d led the narrow life of a man absorbed in one sort 
of business. I traveled out of my way, and lost it. Then 
I met your captain in the canyon and she courteously 


THE GUEST DEPARTS. 


129 


offered me the hospitality of Sobrante. Until I reached 
this spot I had no idea that it was part and parcel, so to 
speak, of that Paraiso I’d come to reclaim. Gradually 
this fact became clear to me and from that moment I 
have been anxious to get away from a hospitality I have 
no moral right to enjoy.” 

“Spoke the truth for once, liar !” grumbled Cromarty. 

“You cannot feel it more than I, sir, nor more pro- 
foundly regret that it is my misfortune to have under- 
taken a business which has now become obnoxious to me. 
But a lawyer must look at facts. One Cassius Trent ” 

“Take care!” 

“Be quiet, ’Marty ! Go on, Mr. Hale,” ordered the 
little captain. 

“Cassius Trent was the man whose hitherto probity 
and enthusiasm had enlisted the interest of his New 
York friends. He represented that his projected com- 
munity would not only be an excellent investment for 
their money, but a benefaction to humanity. They be- 
lieved him and — well, their money is gone, their com- 
munity has not even a beginning, and the man is dead. 
He seems to have been a person ” 

“A white gentleman, sir !” 

“Who could obtain a strong hold upon the affections 
and confidence of all who knew him. I admire the qual- 
ities which gained your devotion and I admire your loy- 
alty to him. I am charmed with the home he created in 
this wilderness — for himself — and I have the profoundest 
respect for his afflicted family. I wish I had not under- 
taken this trust. But I have so undertaken, I am sworn 


130 


JESSICA TRENT. 


to my clients’ interests, and I must further them to my 
utmost ability. If the missing money can be recovered I 
shall recover it, painful as my duty may be. And — that 
is all. Good-by, little captain. It is my sincere wish that 
I may find some explanation of this mystery, other than 
circumstantial evidence seems to point. If I so find I 
shall return and tell you. If not — good-by. Make my 
respectful regards to your mother, and thank you for my 
entertainment.” 

He turned and walked to the doorway, nobody interfer- 
ing ; but there he paused and asked : 

“That horse you mentioned? Can I purchase him of 
you? If so I need not trouble Samson for his escort, 
but will bid you, gentlemen, good-morning.” 

A significant look ran around the circle of intent and 
lowering faces. The lawyer’s succinct explanation of 
affairs had impressed them, but it had not altered one' 
fact which most mattered to those hardy countrymen. 

A dead man, their idolized master and friend, had 
been accused of black dishonesty, and they had passed 
their own promise to their girlish captain not to injure 
the accuser. 

But they had not promised he should go scot-free. To 
some men shame was worse than a bullet wound. It 
would have been so to them, and they did the stranger 
thus much honor that they ascribed him equal manliness. 

As he stepped across the threshold Mr. Hale found 
both Samson and John Benton close beside him, at right 
hand and left ; and when he was about to mount the super- 
annuated beast, which a grinning stable lad held for him, 



w 

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OJ 

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v-/ 



THE GUEST DEPARTS. 


131 


he was pinioned and quietly hoisted into the saddle. In- 
stantly, a brace of straps secured him and Samson’s crop 
cut viciously at the animal’s neck. Then the sailor sprang 
into his own saddle and, amid the insulting shouts and 
jeers of the assembled ranchmen, the unfortunate East- 
erner rode out of the mission courtyard — face backward. 


CHAPTER XIL 


A PROJECTED JOURNEY. 

Captain Jess screamed and ran forward, but her out- 
stretched hands could not reach her guest, already borne 
many rods away. Then she faced the jeering men, with 
an anger she had not believed it possible tnat could ever 
feel toward her beloved “boys.” 

“Shame on you! Shame on you, every one! How 
dared you? And I thought — I thought — you were gen- 
tlemen !” 

With arms tightly folded over her breast, as if to hold 
back the conflicting emotions within it, her blue eyes 
flashing, her small foot stamping, she defled and con- 
demned them all. 

A little laughter answered her, but this sound died 
speedily, and awkward glances shifted among the faces 
of the men. They were sorry to have offended the “Little 
One,” and to have her indignant with them was a 
new and unpleasant situation, but they were not in 
the least degree sorry that they had administered some 
punishment to the maligner of their master. Most of 
them would have wished this punishment more severe, 
but the promise Jessica had exacted from them before 
this interview had prevented. 

One by one, as they had first come upon the scene 
they retreated from it, though Joe Dean lingered a mo- 
ment to ask : 


A PROJECTED JOURNEY. 


133 


'Won’t you come share our breakfast, captain, and 
so bury the hatchet?” 

She sadly shook her head. All her anger left her as 
suddenly as it had arisen, and there remained in her 
mind but one thought — there were people in the world 
who believed her father had been a thief. That was the 
hard and bitter fact which nothing could soften. The 
former trouble about the lost title deed, and the prob- 
able loss of her home seemed as nothing to this new dis- 
tress. How was she to face it ? How disprove it ? How 
save her beloved mother from ever hearing it ? 

There came a step beside her and a strong arm about 
her shoulders. It was Ephraim Marsh; erect, resolute, 
protecting. 

"Take it easy, daughter. It’s you and me together ’ll 
nail this lie on the door of the man who started it. There’s 
a blue sky up yonder and a solid earth down here. I’m 
good to trust the one and tread the other for forty 
miles a day yet, spite of my white head. ^ If I have to 
travel this old State over its hundred and fifty-six 
thousand square miles, before I clinch that falsehood, 
I’ll clinch it, if I live. If I don’t — laws, dearie. I’m in 
the same poor box myself. There’s them that believe 
me a — you know the word. Even your mother ” 

"No, Ephraim ! She never believed you anything but 
the splendid man you are.” 

"Last night, no shooting, and ” 

"It was nothing. She was tired. Aunt Sally always 
tires her, at first, good as she is and much as we love her. 
Mother is so quiet and gentle herself ” 


134 


JESSICA TRENT. 


understand, darlin’.” 

“Ephraim, she must never know that dreadful thing 
the stranger said.” 

“Captain, she^ll have to know.” 

“She must not, I tell you ! What am I for but to take 
care of and love her? Ned — but Ned’s only a little 
boy ” 

“And you, my Jessie, are but a few years older than 
he.” 

“I’m older than you, I believe ! Is it only two days 
since I met that man in the canyon and things began to 
happen? It seems forever. As if I’d only lived these 
forty-eight hours, and all that went before was a dream.” 

Ephraim stepped aside and regarded her shrewdly. 

“Old words to come from so young a mouth. Lady 
Captain. Have you had any breakfast?’' 

“No. I don’t want any. Have you?” 

“No. But I’m going to have. As a rule, breakfasts 
are wholesome. Keeping your stomach quiet keeps your 
head clear. Things’ll look more natural after we’ve eat. 
Share mine?” 

“No, I mustn’t. Mother would miss me and wonder.” 

“You often do.” 

“It’s better you share mine to-day. Then we must 
plan. I heard you say that about you and me together. 
Will you help me ? Shall we prove it wasn’t true — to the 
rest of the world, I mean — as’we know it? Shall we?” 

“That’s the rest of my life- job, darlin’. We’ll begin 
it right away by getting a taste of Aunt Sally’s good 


A PROJECTED JOURNEY. 


135 


victuals. I hate her picra doses, but her cooking beats 
the Dutch.” 

“Afterward ?” 

“Afterward isn’t touched yet.” 

Whether real or affected there had come a cheerfulness 
into the old man’s tone which it had lacked a few mo- 
ments earlier. After all he was not useless. Who knew 
his California as he did? If it were true that money had 
been sent to Mr. Trent’s hands and was missing, then 
somewhere was a man who had appropriated it. Who- 
ever and wherever he was, he should be found, and Eph- 
raim Marsh was self-appointed so to find. 

Jessica’s hand slipped under his arm, and her own 
face ‘grew somewhat lighter as she walked beside him 
toward her own home, where Aunt Sally was keeping an 
anxious lookout and a most tempting breakfast. 

“Bless you, Jessie ! I’m glad you’ve come. Step right 
in, Ephy. -Them muffins are so light they’ve nigh flown 
off the porch. Made with the eggs my hen-chicken laid, 
cornin’ along from Boston. Smartest fowl in the coun- 
try, and only one I ever owned would brood and lay at 
the same time. I wouldn’t take a fortune for that bird.” 

Aunt Sally’s own cheerfulness was fully restored. With 
her to be busy helping somebody was, after all, her hap- 
piness. And she saw that she had never come to So- 
brante more opportunely. 

“Your mother isn’t up yet, dearie. And I’ve had the 
tackers out and washed ’em good. Then I filled them 
up with hot milk, and some of my salt-risin’ bread I 
fetched along in my box, and put ’em back to bed. I 


136 


JESSICA TRENf. 


promised if they’d go to sleep again Fd make ’em each 
a saucer-pie, and they went.” 

In spite of her heavy heart, Jessica laughed. 

“Aunt Sally, I don’t believe there’s another person 
could make them go to sleep at this time of day; not 
even my mother.” 

“Pooh! Her! Why, that little Edward knows he 
can twist her round his thumb easy as scat. He’s too 
much the look of his father for Gabriella ever to be sot 
with him. You, now, you favor her folks.” 

Here, foreseeing that the talkative woman was off on a 
long track, Ephraim mildly inquired : 

“Aunt Sally, did you bring that rheumatism-oil you 
had last time you were here?” 

She put on her spectacles and looked at him over them, 
as was her habit. Never, by any chance, had she been 
known to look through them, and her explanation of 
wearing them at all was simply : “It’s proper for a 
woman of my age.” 

“Ephy, you feel real bright, don’t you? You and 
rheumatism ! Why, man, you’ll be getting married be- 
fore you get rheumatic.” 

“Then I’ll never need the oil.” 

She was not to be so easily worsted. If Ephraim was 
minded to be facetious, she’d match him at the business. 
Whereupon, instead of rehearsing the history of Gabri- 
ella’s “folks” she veered round upon disease and gave 
them details of all the dreadful things she had ever 
heard till “Forty-niner” cried, “Quits! I’ll not tackle 
you again.” 


A PROJECTED JOURNEY. 


137 


Mrs. Benton’s eyes twinkled over her cup, for she had 
joined them at table. She knew, as he did,‘that this was 
but foolish sport, yet that it had served their mutual 
purpose; which was to divert Jessica’s thoughts from 
trouble and her lips from asking why her mother did 
not appear. 

But the meal over, the question came, and the answer 
was ready : 

“Why, I just coaxed her to lie and rest a spell. She 
knew that I’d look after things all right, and .caj;]f„ make 
butter next grade to hers, if I can’t equal. Anybody 
that’s been worrying with a Chinaman as long as she 
has needs a vacation, I ’low. So she’s taking a mite of 
one.” 

“Then I’ll gather a bunch of roses and take to her. I’m 
glad to have her rest, and I hope — Aunt Sally, do you 
suppose she heard any of that dreadful man’s talk? Did 
you tell her?” 

“No; I didn’t tell her. I’d sooner never say another 
word as long as I live than do such a thing. You needn’t 
be afraid to trust your old auntie, child. There, run 
along and make her a posy.” 

But no sooner had Jessica gone into the garden than 
Aunt Sally’s lips were close to Ephraim’s ear, and she 
was whispering: 

“She heard it, every word. She didn’t say so, and I 
didn’t ask. But the look of it in her eyes. Ephraim 
Marsh, I’ve got a heart-broken woman on my hands, 
and don’t you dare to tell me a word ’at I haven’t.” 

“Oh, that tongue of yours ! Last night when you were 


138 


JESSICA TRENT. 


yelling at him why didn’t you think about other folks’ 
hearts and be still ? You’ve a voice like a fog horn when 
you’re mad — or pleased, either !” cried this honest, ungal- 
lant frontiersman. 

“I know it, Ephy. It’s the truth. I realize it as well 
as you do. And I was mad. Since she heard, anyway, I 
wish now ’at Ed up and thrashed him good. I had laid 
out to put a little bitter dose in his coffee this morning, 
but he went away without taking any,” she ended, grimly. 

“Sally Benton, you’re quite contriving. What’s to be 
done ?” 

Before she could reply Jessica came back, her arms 
full of great rose-branches and her face bright with con- 
fidence. 

“Ephraim, Aunt Sally, I’ve thought of something. It 
came to me out there among the roses, like a voice speak- 
ing; my mother must not and need not be told what Mr. 
Hale said. It isn’t wicked to deceive her in this, for her 
own good. Often you’ve asked her to let you take me 
horseback trip to Los Angeles, stopping nights at houses 
on the way, with people who knew my father; and she’s 
promised I should ‘some time.’ I think the ‘some time’ 
has come. She will be glad to have us go, for one thing, 
to find out about the feather markets and others that 
Antonio used to take care of, but has left. Aunt Sally 
does two things at once; why not we? We’ll hunt that 
man who took the money; and if I can’t find the deed 
first — ^though, of course, I shall — we’ll straighten that 
out, too. Isn’t that good sense?” 

“It’s more; it’s inspiration,” responded “Forty- 


A PROJECTED JOURNEY. 


139 


niner,” enthusiastically. He had already decided to make 
this journey alone, for Jessica’s sake; but with her as 
companion he felt that it would be as sure of success as 
full of pleasure. A little child working to clear her 
father’s name of dishonor, and to save her mother’s 
home — what evil could prevail against this noble effort? 

It was like his simplicity and hers that neither thought 
of providing for difficulties by the way, or for any delay 
in finding the men and proofs they sought, when once 
they reached tne distant city. 

Aunt Sally was not so sanguine; yet it was not her 
part to discourage any attempt to set wrong matters 
right, and she merely nodded her head and remarked : 

“It’ll bear thinking on. Now, run along and see your 
mother.” 

“Has she had her breakfast? Can’t I carry it to her?” 

“S’pose I’d let that poor lamb go without her dawn- 
meat late as this? I heard her stirring the minute I got 
back into the house, so I fixed her some broma and 
poached her an egg, and made her go lie down again. 
You’ll not find her hungry, child, ’less for a sight of you.” 

Je'Ssica ran to her mother’s room, exclaiming: 

“I’m so glad you’re resting, dear. Were ever more ' 
perfect roses? And isn’t it delightful that Aunt Sally 
should be here just now to look after things. Because — ” 

“Well, my darling? Why do you hesitate?” 

“Mother, may Ephraim and I go on that trip to Los 
Angeles ?” 

Lady Jess had intended to be very careful and cau- 
tious, for once, and to test her mother’s feelings on the 


140 


JESSICA TRENT. 


subject she made her request. But frankness was her 
habit, and the question was out of itself, it seemed, and 
she waiting the answer with a beating heart. 

“Why just now, daughter? And — has Mr. Hale 

gone?” she asked, in a peculiar tone. 

“Yes. He has gone. He left rather — rather sudden- 
ly, but he sent his regards to you and his thanks. He 
said he might come back some time, but — I don’t think 
he will. He said something to offend the ‘boys,’ and they 
let him take old Dandy. Samson went with him to show 
him the way.” 

Poor little captain, who had never in her short life 
had one secret thought from her idolized mother. This 
first experience did not come easy to her, and after one 
glance into the sad, yet amused, eyes watching her, she 
tossed secrecy aside and buried her face on her mother’s 
pillow. 

“Mother, mother! I am so unhappy. I’m keeping 
something back from you that I cannot tell you; that 
I cannot have you know, and I don’t like it. But — it’s 
right, it’s best. So don’t ask me, and, oh, mother ” 

“I’ve no need to ask you, sweetheart. I know, al- 
ready.” 

“Know — what?” cried Jessica alarmed, and sitting 
straight again. 

“All that is in your brave heart. All that Mr. Hale 
had heard against your father. All that you and Eph- 
raim hope from this suddenly decided journey to a dis- 
tant city.” 


A PROJECTED JOURNEY. 141 

^‘Why — how? And Fd only just thought it out, yonder 
in the garden!” 

“I had begun to suspect, I hardly know why, that our 
late guest had come here as our enemy, or, rather, as an 
agent against us. Something held me back from con- 
fiding in him, as I at first wished to do. He is a gentle- 
man, and doubtless honest, but he is not on our side. Be- 
sides, how and why he went away just as he did is plain 
enough. I have ears and I have eyes, and I heard all 
Aunt Sally’s tirade last night, so could easily guess at his 
own part in the talk. Also — I saw him ride out of the 
courtyard. My little girl, for the first time in my life I 
blushed for Sobrante. Even if he had been a wicked 
man, which he was not, that was a dastardly insult. I am 
ashamed of your ‘boys,’ captain.” 

“And so am I. And I told them so, quick enough. 
Oh 1 they pretended not to mind my anger, but they were 
ashamed — inside themselves, I know. Now, for ever 
so long, they’ll be so good ‘butter wouldn’t melt in their 
mouths’. You see.” 

“Apt pupil of Aunt Sally.” 

“Why, mother! How can you smile and take it so 
quiet? This awful — awful thing he said?” 

“To say a thing is not to prove it. The charge is so 
monstrous that it becomes absurd. Nothing hurts us 
but what we do, and your father never did a dishonorable 
deed, from the hour of his birth till his death. I am 
sorry for those mistaken people who think that he did, 
and I am thankful that he left a brave little daughter to 
set them right.” 


142 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Jessica stared. For a long time past she had seen 
her mother anxious and troubled over matters which 
now seemed trivial in the extreme; yet this blow which 
had almost crushed her own courage but restored Mrs. 
Trent’s. 

“Then do you mean that we may go?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh, mother ! Thank you.” 

“But you will go armed with the fullest information 
we can gain. We will examine all the papers Antonio 
left — if he left any. We will make a thorough search 
everywhere for that title deed. We shall probably find 
letters from this New York company to your father, and 
these will have the name, or names, of those with 
whom he did business at Los Angeles. I wish now that 
Sehor Bernal were here. His knowledge would be 
worth everything in this emergency, if — he would give 
it. Well, he is not here, and we must do the best we 
can without him. Fm going to get up now and begin 
to look.” 

“Aunt Sally thought you ought to rest.” 

“This talk will rest me most of all.” 

The mother was now as eager as the child, and to- 
gether they were soon engaged in opening Mr. Trent’s 
desk and secretary, which his wife had not before 
touched since he himself closed them. 

Alas ! the search was an easy matter, and came swiftly 
to an end. Beyond a few personal letters from rela- 
tives and friends, there was not a scrap of writing any- 
where. Even the ledgers and account books had been 


A PROJECTED JOURNEY. 


143 


removed, and at this discovery the- same thought came 
to both : 

“Antonio.” 

“Yet, why? and so secretly. He was really the master 
here, and if, as he now claims, Sobrante is his, he has 
but to prove it, and we will go away,” said the widow, 
trembling for the first time. 

“Let us try the safe. That night before he went 
off in such grief, Ephraim gave me the key. He thought 
he was going forever, and I was to look in it some time — 
when I needed. We’ll look now.” 

Mrs. Trent herself unlocked the clumsy iron box and 
found it empty, save for one small parcel. This, wrapped 
in a bit of canvas, was securely tied and addressed to 
“Jessica Trent.” 

The mother passed it to her. 

“You open it, please, mother. It may be — it must 
be — that deed and maybe some other things — I couldn’t 
wait to pick the knots, and I’ve no knife.” 


CHAPTER XIIL 


THE START. 

Nothing resembling a legal document was found inside 
the package; but, instead, were several neatly-arranged 
rolls of gold and silver money, with the denomination of 
each roll carefully marked outside ; dollars, eagles, double 
eagles. With these was a scrap of paper, saying : 

“All my savings for my captain. God bless them to 
her. E. M.’^ 

“Oh, mother 1 That big-hearted Ephraim ! Was any- 
body ever so unselfish as he?’’ 

“Or as unjust as I have been.” 

“How? What can you mean?” 

Mrs. Trent did not answer, save by the tears in her 
eyes, though she was tempted to show her child all the 
base suspicion that had, for a brief space, dwelt in her 
own mind concerning “Forty-niner.” A suspicion which 
Antonio had suggested, and her trouble made her too 
ready to accept. Then she reflected it were wiser not, 
and rose, placing the precious parcel in Jessica’s own 
hands. 

“Let us find that splendid old man at once. We can- 
not accept his sacrifice, but we must hasten to show 
him we appreciate it.” 

Ephraim was polishing his rifle in his own room when 
they came to him, and rose to welcome the unusual visit 


THE START. 


145 


of the lady with more awkwardness than he commonly 
displayed. It was an honor she was doing him, yet he 
had far rather she had not come. 

But he was forced back into his chair by Jessica’s as- 
sault of clinging arms and raining kisses, and, catching 
sight of the parcel in her hand, began to understand. 

“Oh, you splendid, darling, generous Ephraim ! I can 
never, never thank you enough for doing this for me, but 
I could not ever possibly take it. Why, there must be 
hundreds of dollars there, my mother says, and that 
would mean almost all the years you’ve ever lived at 
Sobrante. I never knew anybody with such a heart 
as you, dear Ephraim.” 

The poor old fellow was far more distressed by her re- 
jection of his gift than she could guess. His face 
drooped, he worked his hands and feet uneasily, he shifted 
his seat, and behaved in altogether a new fashion for the 
man who had hitherto borne himself so simply and natur- 
ally. Then the old suspicion returned to sting his loving 
heart, and he glanced up to study his mistress’ face. To 
his surprise he saw it wet with tears, and that she was 
holding out her thin, labor-hardened hands to clasp his 
own. 

“Ephraim Marsh, you have done me more good than 
money could bring. You have renewed my faith in man- 
kind. In a world where live such men as you justice 
will be done the memory of my dead husband. I thank 
you.” 

“Don’t — don’t mention it, Mrs. Trent. I wish it had 
been double, as it ought, only ” 


146 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“Ephraim, mother says we may go. You and I, as 
you said, ‘together,’ to make everything straight.” 

“What? You’ve told her then. Lady Jess.” 

“Of course. Or she guessed. How could I keep any- 
thing from my mother? And she’s quite willing.” 

“I’m more than willing, Ephraim. I want you to go. 
I believe that good will come of the journey, though I am 
terribly disappointed by not finding any papers or letters 
to help you in the search for the men with whom Mr. 
Trent transacted his business. Antonio must have taken 
away all the records or put them in some place I cannot 
guess.” 

“Then we’ll find Antonio first.” 

“Of course. How simple of me not to think of that. 
Do you happen to know where he went?” 

“No, ma’am, I don’t. But you can always track a — 
well, some critters by their scent. Wherever that scoun- 
drel goes he’ll leave a trail. I’ve a keen nose for the 
hunt.” 

“Don’t judge him too harshly, Ephraim. ^Perhaps he 
considered that he was doing all for the best; and if 
Sobrante is his, he’s welcome to it.” 

“Whew !” was the ranchman’s astonished comment. 

“Don’t you understand, dear Ephraim? Losing a 
home is nothing to losing honor,” said Jessica, earnestly. 
“We don’t care half so much about Sobrante as that other 
thing.” 

“You shall keep both. Your home and our master’s 
honor,” cried the old man, fiercely. 


THE START. 


147 


“Yes, that we will!” echoed Jessica, clasping his hand 
again. 

So doing she dropped the canvas bag on the floor, and, 
picking it up, Mrsi Trent would have restored it to its 
owner, as she so considered the sharpshooter. But he 
would have none of it. 

“Tve heard the little tackers call one another ‘Indian 
giver.’ I couldn’t, ma’am, you know. It’s Jessie’s, now.” 

The mistress’ face grew serious. She had not expected 
to find the man so obstinate. But she hated to wound 
him and turned the matter aside with the remark : 

“Let it rest so, then, for the present. I will keep it 
in the safe till you come back — if I can. Though I begin 
to feel as if nothing were secure at Sobrante, nowa- 
days.” 

Ephraim pondered for a moment, then looked up with 
a relieved expression. 

“Asking pardon, ma’am. I’m sure ; have you got any — 
I mean much money handy by you ?” 

“No. I have not. Fortunately, beyond the wages of 
th^ men, not much ready cash is needed at Sobrante, 
where we produce so much.” 

“Yes’m. Yet I wouldn’t like to set out on a journey 
that might be long, or even delayed for a spell, with- 
out considerable loose change. Better let the captain 
pay all expenses of the trip out of that little handful, and 
call it square.” 

“Square! That is even greater generosity than the 
iirst. Lying in the safe you might have found it again ; 


148 


JESSICA TRENT. 


but Spent — Ephraim, I fear Fll never be able to repay 
such an amount. I must think out some other way.’’ 

“Don’t you trust me, Mrs. Trent?” 

“Am I not trusting you with the most precious thing in 
life — my daughter ?” 

“Then, mother, trust him about the money. It’s good 
sense. W e haven’t any and we need it. Besides, it hurts 
him to refuse. Yes, we’ll use it, Ephraim dear.” 

So it was settled; but it was not in Jessica’s nature to 
keep the story from the rest of her “boys.” Forgetting 
her angry feelings of the morning she called a meeting 
and spread the news among them. Much as she loved 
them, until the time of her recent appointment as “cap- 
tain,” she had tried to give them their titles of “Mr.,” 
though not always remembering. Now she no longer 
tried.. They were just her comrades, and when she stood 
upon the horseblock to address them it was with the 
joyful announcement : 

“John! George! Joe! Everybody! Listen! Ephraim 
and I are going away!” 

She paused and looked around, but instead of the sym- 
pathetic pleasure she expected there were darkening looks 
and evident disappointment. 

“Oh ! but we are coming back again. Hark, what he 
did!” 

Ephraim was away putting his few traps together 
against the morning’s start, since, if they were to go at all, 
why delay? Else he might have silenced her then and 
there. But out it came, and be sure the sharpshooter’s 
generosity lost not one bit in her telling. 


THE START. 


149 


“With this money we're going to hire lawyers and pay 
our lodging where we have to, and hunt up the men 
that know about business. Finally, to find the money — 
that other lot of it — that Mr. Hale said had been sent to 
my father by those New York folks. If they did send 
it they shall have it back — if we can find it. If they didn’t 
— they shall tell all the world they accused him wrong- 
fully. We’re going to find the man that made that 
title, if we can. We’re going to save Sobrante, but we’re 
going to save its honor first !” 

“Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Glory to the captain !” 

“And old ‘Forty-niner,’ ” added honest John Benton. 

They cheered him to the skies, and when the uproar 
had subsided, their small chief said : 

“You are all to take the best care of Sobrante, and 
first — of my mother. Don’t you let her worry, nor let 
Ned and Luis get hurt. And you must keep Aunt 
Sally here till I come back.” 

Somebody groaned. 

“Oh! that’s not right. I couldn’t go if she hadn’t 
come. She’ll look after everything ” 

“That’s the true word 1” 

“And I want you all to be — be good and not tease her.” 

“Hurrah! Hurrah! All in favor of minding the cap- 
tain, say Ay!” 

They swung her down from her perch and carried her 
on their shoulders everywhere about the old mission. 
They offered her all their possessions, including pistols 
and bowie knives, at peaceful Sobrante more useful for 
target practice and pruning vines than their original pur- 


150 


JESSICA TRENT. 


poses. But she declined all these warlike things, saying 
that Ephraim would carry only his own rifle, and finally 
tore herself away from them to the anxious mother at the 
cottage, naturally jealous now of each moment of her dar- 
ling’s company. 

“Don’t see how Eph. ever saved so much. Hasn’t had 
any wages since ours failed, as I know of. Mine always 
go fast as earned, and thought everybody’s did,” said one, 
when Jessica had left them. 

“Some folks have all the luck ! Why didn’t it happen 
to me to have money to give her? or to offer first to go 
hunt them liars ? Shucks !” said Samson, in disgust. 
Though he had been back some time from escorting the 
stranger “off bounds,” that task had left him in a bad 
humor. 

“Well, the captain’d tell me envy was wicked, and 
when I was hearing her say it I’d believe it. But I do 
envy old eighty his chance,” complained Joe. “Hello! 
there’s Ferd I Come to think of it I haven’t noticed 
him around these two days. Not since that stranger 
cast his ugly shadow on the ranch. Hi, there. Dwarf 1 
Where you been ?” 

“Where I seen bad doings.” 

“Right. Seeing you was there yourself. What do- 
ings was they?” 

In ordinary the older men had little to say to Antonio’s 
“Left Hand,” but he afforded them diversion, just then, 
when they were all a little anxious and downhearted over 
their captain’s departure on what seemed to some of them 
a wild-goose chase. 


THE START. 


151 


Ferd went through a pantomime of theft. Furtively 
putting one hand into his neighbor’s pocket to instantly 
thrust it back into his own. He produced a buckskin bag 
and twisting some eucalyptus leaves into rolls, suggesting 
those of money, thrust these within the bag and that 
within his jacket. Then he glanced about with an ab- 
surdly innocent expression, threw his shoulders back, and 
stepped forward a few paces with so firm and erect 
a bearing that more than one instantly recognized the 
mimicry. 

“Forty-niner !” 

Having produced the effect he had intended, Ferd 
slouched back into his own natural attitude and begged : 

“Something to eat.” 

At that moment Ephraim had been approaching and 
was an indignant witness of this performance, nor was 
he less quick to see its significance than his mates had 
been. Also, to him that buckskin bag was a familiar 
object. With one stride he collared Ferd and shook 
him like a rat. 

“You imp! What do you mean by that? And how 
came you by Elsa Winkler’s pouch?” 

Ferd broke from his captor and his face changed color 
beneath its filth. He was one who was perfectly satis- 
fied to live in a country where water was scarce ; but, by 
way of fun, another ranchman caught him as he escaped' 
from Ephraim, and forcibly ducked his head and shoul- 
ders in the washing-trough. After that he was let go 
and later on was given a liberal supper at the messroom. 


152 


JESSICA TRENT. 


He ate this as if he had not seen food since he had gone 
away two days before, but he was greedy at all times, and 
the present instance excited no comment. 

The morning came and all was ready for the start. 
Every person at Sobrante gathered before the cottage 
door, and each with his or her word of farewell advice 
or good will. Aunt Sally, fluttering with patchwork 
strips of already ''pieced blocks,” flung jauntily over 
either shoulder, her spectacles slipping off the point of her 
nose and her hands holding forth a fat fig pie, hot and 
dripping from the oven. 

"Eve been a-bakin’ all night, Ephy. There’s a pair of 
fowls, a ham, four loaves, some hard-boiled eggs, salt, 
pepper, sugar, tea, coffee, butter, dishes, five vials of 

medicine, some dish towels, some ” 

"What in reason ! How expect me to carry that great 
basket, as well as the saddlebags, and myself — on one 
horse? You’re old enough to have sense — but you’ll 

never learn it. One loaf ” 

"Ephraim Marsh ! Are you eighty years old or are 
you not? At your age would you starve the little dar- 
ling daughter of the best friends you ever had? Here, 
Jessie. You get off that donkey. We’ll wait till we 

can pick out some other man that ” 

"Give me the basket; I’ll carry it if I have to on my 
head !” interrupted "Forty-niner,” indignantly. But he 
added to himself : "I can chuck it into the first clump of 
mesquite I meet.” 

Jessica was upon Scruff, whose loss the small boys 


THE START. 


153 


were bewailing far more than that of the girl herself. 
Without Scruff they would be compelled to stay within 
walking distance of the cottage, and this was imprison- 
ment. Without Jessica — well, there were many things 
one could do better with Jessica away. 

Mrs. Trent’s face was pale but calm. Nobody knew 
what this first parting with her helpful child was to her 
anxious heart, but it was her part to send the travelers 
outward in good cheer. ' 

“Put the saddlebags on Scruff, in front of Jessica. 
He’s strong enough to carry double, and they’re not so 
heavy. Few girls, in my days at the East, would have 
set out upon an indefinite journey, equipped with only 
one flannel frock and a single change of underclothing.” 

“But the flannel frock is new and so is the pretty Tam 
that Elsa gave me last Christmas. What do I want 
more? specially when there’s this warm jacket you 
made me take, for a cold night’s ride. Isn’t it enough, 
mother, dear?” 

“Quite, I think, else I should have made you delay till 
I could have provided more. Be sure to write me, now 
and then. One of the men will ride to the post every few 
days and fetch any letters. Good-by, and now — go 
quickly !” 

She added no prayers, for these were too deep in her 
heart for outward utterance; but she felt her own cour- 
age ebbing, and that if the parting were not speedy she 
could not at all endure it. Until that moment she had 
not realized how complete was her dependence upon Jes- 


154 


JESSICA TRENT. 


sica’s protecting tenderness ; and turning toward her 
home hid thus the tears she would not have her daughter 
see. 

But neither could Lady Jess have seen them, because 
of the sudden mist in her own. All her eagerness for 
the journey was gone, and her courage was fast following 
it. If the start were not made at once it would never be. 

“Good-by, mother. Good-by, all ! Come, Ephraim ! 
Go, go— Scruff !” 

A moment later the travelers were disappearing down 
the sandy road, and upon those whom they had left be- 
hind had fallen an intolerable burden of foreboding and 
loneliness. 

“Desolation of desolations ! That’s what this old 
ranch’ll be till that there little bunch of human sunshine 
comes safely back to it. A crazy trip, a crazy parcel of 
folks to let her take it. That’s what we are,” said John 
Benton, savagely kicking the horseblock to vent his 
painful emotion. 

“Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! And I never remembered to 
put in that guava jell!” moaned a voice of woe. 

“Then, mother, just trot it out to us for dinner,” said 
her son, “we’ll take that burden off your mind.” 

“You will? Have you a heart to eat good victuals, 
John Benton, when that sweet child has just thrust her- 
self into a den of lions, and lawyers, and liars, and — and 
— things ?” 

“Oh, hush ! Lions ! The notion !” 

“Well, you can’t deny there’s bears, anyway,” she re- 


THE START. 


155 


torted, with ready dolefulness. “Ephy’s shot ’em himself 
in his younger days.” 

“And ended the crop. Now you go in; and if I hear 
you downhearting the mistress the least bit Ell make 
you take a dose of your own picra,” said this much-tried 


man. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE FINISH. 

It was a journey of something more than two hundred 
miles and they were a?lmost a week on the way; riding 
for several hours each morning and evening; camping 
in some well-watered spot at midday ; or, this failing, 
sharing the dinner of some friendly ranchman. Also, 
they slept at some little inn or ranch, and where their 
hosts would receive it, Ephraim delighted to make liberal 
payment for their entertainment. 

Indeed, he felt a prince, with his well-filled purse, and 
would have forced all sorts of dainties and knickknacks 
upon his little charge, at each village they passed through, 
save that she resolutely refused them. 

“You generous Ehraim, no! What money we need 
for the trip and after we get to Los Angeles is all right. 
But you mustn’t waste it. Hear 1 I am older than you 
in this thing.” 

“But — I want you to have everything nice in the world. 
Lady Jess. Any other of the ‘boys’* traveling with 
you ” 

“Could not have been so kind and thoughtful as you. 
Not one. Dearly as I love them I’d rather have you to 
take care of me on this long journey than any other single 
one. So do be good and not extravagant. And isn’t 
it lovely to find how almost everybody knew of my dear 


THE FINISH. 


157 


father? Or, if they didn’t know him for himself, they’d 
heard of him and of something kind he’d done for some- 
body. It makes the way seem almost short and as if I’d 
been over the road before.” 

“He often passed this way, child; and wherever he 
went left pleasant memories behind him. He was a grand 
man, was Cassius Trent. Ugh ! To think ” 

“That will be all right, Ephraim. I know it. I feel it. 
And how I do love all the new places and things I see. I 
should never have cared to leave Sobrante but for this 
business; yet now I have left it I’m finding the world a 
big, splendid, lovely place.” 

“H-m-m. I reckon even this old earth could show only 
its best side to you, little girl. However, it has been 
pleasant and it’s about over. Aunt Sally’s provisions 
didn’t have to go into the mesquite bushes, after all. What 
we couldn’t eat we’ve found plenty of others to take 
off our hands. Even the medicine didn’t go begging, 
and that’ll do her proud to hear. Poor wretches who 
have to take it !” 

“But 'they wanted it, Ephraim. Some of the women 
said they hadn’t had a dose of medicine in years and 
seemed as pleased as if it had been sweetmeats. Now 
the basket is em?pfy. What shall you do with that ?” 

“Leave it at the next place we stop.” 

They had set out upon their ride on Tuesday morning 
and this was sunset, Saturday. They were descending 
the slope of a mountain and the guide pointed forward, 
eagerly. 

“Do you see that hazy spot off yonder? That’s our 


158 


JESSICA TRENT. 


City of the Angels ! The city where we shall find justice 
and honor.” 

“Oh, shall we be there to-night ?” 

“No. We might have been days ago if we’d ridden 
across country and struck the railway lines, but I wanted 
to do just as we have done. I knew you’d hear so much 
about your father it would do you good forever. We 
can go home the quicker way if we think best ; and if 
we have good news to take will, likely, so think. I — I’m 
almost sorry we’re so near the end.” 

“In one way so am I. Not in another. I long to begin 
to hunt for that money and the men who have it.” 

Ephraim sighed. Now that he was thus far on his 
mission he began to think it, indeed, as Joe Dean had 
said, “A good deal of the needle and haymow style.” 
But he rallied at once and answered, cheerfully : 

“There’s a house I know, or used to, at the foot of this 
slope. I planned to sleep there to-night, make an early 
start in the morning, and ride the fifteen, miles left so 
as to get to the town in time for the churches. To think 
you’re eleven years old. Lady Jess, yet have never been 
inside any church except the rickety old mission.” 

“Do you like churches, Ephraim?” 

“Yes. I do now, child. I didn’t care so much about 
’em when I lived nigh ’em. But they’re right,. There’s a 
good many kinds of ’em and they get me a little mixed, 

arguing. But they’re right; and the bell It’ll be a 

good beginning of this present job to go to meeting the 
first thing.” 

“Oh ! this wonderful world and the wonderful things 


THE FINISH. 


159 


Fni learning !” What a lot I shall have to tell the folks 
when I get home. Seems as if I couldn’t wait.” 

They found the little lodging-house, as Ephraim had 
hoped, though now kept by a stranger to him. How- 
ever, the new landlord made them comfortable, charged 
them an exorbitant price — having caught sight of his 
guest’s fat purse — and set them early on their way. 
“Forty-niner” did not complain. Their next and final 
stop would be with an old fellow-miner who, at Ephraim’s 
last. visit to Los Angeles, five years before, had kept a 
tidy little inn on one of the city’s central streets. If this 
old friend were still living he would give them hearty wel- 
come, the best entertainment possible, and what was more 
to the purpose — practical advice as to their business. 

“The bells ! The bells ! Oh ! they are what you said, 
the sweetest things I ever heard!” cried Lady Jess, in de- 
light, as over the miles of distance there floated to them 
on the clear air, the chimes and sonorous tollings from 
many church towers. 

“We shall be late, I guess, after all. That means it’s 
time for the meetings to begin. Well, there’ll be others 
in the afternoon; so we may as good take it easy and go 
slow.” 

This suited Jessica, who found more and more to 
surprise and interest her in every stage of their advance, 
and most of all as they entered the city. This was much 
altered and improved since the sharpshooter had himself 
last seen it, but even thus he could point out many of 
the finest buildings, name the chief avenues, and comport 


160 


JESSICA TRENT. 


himself after the manner of one who knows enlighten- 
ing one who does not. 

But soon Jessica saw few of the things which interested 
him and heard him not at all. It was the first time she 
had ever seen a girl of her own age, and now — the streets 
were full of them. In their gay Sunday attire, on their 
homeward way now from the churches whose bells had 
long ceased to ring, they were here, there, and every- 
where. They lined the sidewalks and glittered from the 
open electric cars. They smiled at one another and, a 
few, at her; for to them, also, this other stranger girl was 
a novel sight, just then and there. Besides the oddity of 
her dress and equipment, the eagerness and beauty of 
her face attracted them, and more than one pair of eyes 
turned to look after her, as Scruff scrambled along, un- 
guided by his rider, and dodging one danger only to face 
another. 

“That’s a country girl, fast enough ; and if she doesn’t 
look out that uneasy burro will land her on the curb- 
stone! Look out there, child!” cried one passerby, just 
as the animal bounded across the track of a whizzing 
trolley. 

But this peril escaped, Ephraim grasped Scruff’s bridle 
and presently led the way into a quieter street or alley, 
and thence to the wide plaza before the inn he sought. 

“Thank fortune, there’s room enough here to turn 
around in ! And there’s the very house. Hello ! Lady 
Jess! I say, Jessica!” 

Without warning the girl had whisked the bridle from 


THE FINISH. 


161 


his grasp and had chirruped to the now excited beast in 
the manner which meant : 

“Go your swiftest !” 

Scruff went. Following he knew not what, and terri- 
fied afresh at every square he traversed. Somewhere 
a band of music was playing, and the beating of the drums 
seemed to his donkey brain the most horrible of noises. 
To escape it and the ever-increasing throng his nimble 
feet flew up and down like mad; he thrust his head 
between the arms of people and forced the crowd to 
part for him ; he reared, backed, plunged, and shook 
himself ; but did not in the least disturb his mistress’ firm 
seat, as with her own head leaning forward she kept her 
gaze upon some distant object and urged him to pursuit. 

The crowd which made way for this eager pair was 
first angry, then amused. After that it began to collect 
into a formidable following. Poor Lady Jess became to 
them a “show” and Scruff’s antics but meant to exhibit 
her “trick” riding. 

Now Stiff leg was an ancient beast, which had been a 
trotter in his day; but his day, like his master’s, was 
past. By good care and easy stages he had accomplished 
his long journey in fair condition; but he was a sensible 
animal and felt that he had earned a rest. So when 
Ephraim urged him forward after the vanishing burro 
he halted and turned his head about. If ever equine eyes 
protested against further effort, his did then ; and at 
ordinary times “Forty-niner” would have been the first 
to perceive this appeal and grant it. He had always 
bragged that “Stiffleg’s more human than most folks,” 


162 


JESSICA TRENT. 


but he forgot this now. He remembered only that his 
precious charge was fast disappearing from sight and 
that in another moment she would be lost in a great, 
strange city. 

“Simpleton that I was ! I never even mentioned the 
name of the tavern we were going to,” he reflected, “else 
she might tell it and get shown the way.” Then came an- 
other startling thought. For fear of just such an emer- 
gency — why had he been silly enough to think of it ? — he 
had on that very morning, as they neared their journey’s 
end, divided their money into two portions and made her 
carry the larger one. She had objected, at first; but 
afterward consented, and with pride in his trust. “If any 
scamp got hold of her he’d rob her or — maybe worse ! 
Oh, Atlantic ! Giddap, Stiff ! Giddap, I tell you !” 

To the crowd this appeared but another feature of the 
“show.” These rustics from the plains had evidently 
come into town to furnish entertainment for Sunday 
strollers, and Stiffleg’s obstinacy was to them a second 
of the “tricks” to be exhibited. 

However, it was a case of genuine balk ; and the more 
Ephraim urged, implored, chastised, the firmer were the 
horse’s forefeet planted upon the highway and the more 
despairing became the rider’s feeling. 

‘Build a fire under him,” “Thurst red pepper under 
his nose,” “Tie him to a trolley car.” “Blindfold him.” 

Various were the suggestions offered, to none of which 
did the sharpshooter pay any heed. The brass band 
accomplished what nothing else could. Blatantly, it came 
around the corner, keeping time to its own noisy drums, 





“ Look out there, child !” 


(See pag’e i6o) 






THE FINISH. 


163 


and Stiffleg pricked up his ears. In his youth he had 
marched to battle and, at that moment, his youth was 
renewed. He reared his drooping head, a thrill ran 
through his languid veins, and, though still without 
advance motion, his hoofs began to beat a swift tattoo, 
till the towering plumes of the drum major came along- 
side his own now gleaming eyes. Then he wheeled sud- 
denly and — forward V’ 

“Ho ! the old war-horse ! That’s a pretty sight,” 
shouted somebody. 

Alas ! for Ephraim. The unexepected movement of 
the balking animal did for him what was rare indeed — 
unseated him. By the time that it was “right front” 
for Stiffleg his master was on the grqund, feeling that 
an untoward fate had overtaken him and that his leg, if 
not his heart, was broken. Music had charms, in truth, 
for the rejuvenated beast, and one of the sharpshooter’s 
pet theories was thereby proved false. Had anybody 
at Sobrante told him that anything could entice his 
“faithful” horse away from him he would have denied 
the statement angrily. He would have declared, with 
equal conviction, that, in case of accident like this, the in- 
telligent creature would have stayed beside and tried to 
tend him. 

Now, lying forsaken both by Jessica and Stiffleg, he 
uttered his shame and misery in a prolonged howl, as he 
attempted to rise and could not. 

“Oh ! Ough ! Oh ! My leg’s broke ! My leg’s broke 
all to smash, I tell you. Somebody pick me up and carry 


164 


JESSICA TRENT. 


me — yonder — to the Yankee Blade. If Tom Jefferts 
keeps it still, he’ll play my friend. Oh ! Ahl’^ 

Some in the now pitying throng exchanged glances, 
and one man bent over the prostrate Ephraim, saying, 
kindly : 

“Why, Tom Jefferts hasn’t been in this town these 
three years. He went to ’Frisco and set up there. If 
there’s anybody else you’d like to notify I’ll tele- 
phone ” 

“He gone, too! Then let me lie. What do I care 
what becomes of me now ? Oh ! my leg !” 

The bravest men are cowards before physical suffer- 
ing, sometimes. Ephraim would have faced death for 
Jessica without flinching, but that gathering agony of 
pain made him indifferent, for the moment, even to her 
welfare. This calamity had fallen upon him like light- 
ning from a clear sky and benumbed him, so to speak. 
But it had not benumbed those about him. Within five 
minutes the clang of an ambulance gong was heard, and 
the aid which some thoughtful person had summoned 
arrived. Ephraim was tenderly lifted and placed within 
the conveyance, and away it dashed again, though almost 
without jar, and certainly without hindrance, since 
everything on the street gives place to suffering. 

By the time the hospital was reached the patient had 
recovered something of his customary fortitude, but he 
was still too confused and distressed to think clearly about 
his escaped charge and what should be done to find her. 
As for Stiff leg: 

'T hope I’ll never see that cowardly, ungrateful beast 


THE FINISH. 


165 


again !’’ he ejaculated ; then resigned himself to the 
surgeon’s hands. 

That which Lady Jess had perceived in the distance 
and had followed so wildly was the tall figure of a gentle- 
man in a gray suit. He wore a gray hat and blue glasses, 
such as her mother had pressed upon Mr. Hale’s accept- 
ance during his brief stay at Sobrante. 

“It’s he! It certainly is he! Oh! Now I can tell 
him how sorry both mother and I were that the “boys” 
behaved so rudely. And he’s a lawyer. He’s on the same 
business we are, if his is the other side. But I did like 
hini at first and — I must catch up to him. I must stop 
him — quick.” 

This might have been an easy thing to do, under 
Scruff’s present rate of speed ; but, unfortunately, the tall 
man stepped into a hack, waiting beside the plaza for 
stray passengers, and giving an order was driven rapidly 
away. 

For a long time Jessica kept that carriage in sight ; then 
it turned a corner into an avenue, where were hundreds 
more just like it, it seemed to her, and she lost it among 
the many. 

Even yet she pressed on determined. “In a city — it’s 
just one city, even if it is a big one — I shall find him 
if I keep on. I must. Go, Scruff! The band is after 
you. Go! 'Go!” 

The overtaxed burro had already “gone” to his fullest 
ability. He could do no more, although his mistress 
whispered “sugar,” “sweet cake” and other tempting 
words. His excited pace dropped to the slowest of walks, 


166 


JESSICA TRENT. 


his breath came hardly, and finally he leaned himself 
against a post and rested. When he had done so for 
some moments, Jessica turned him about and looked back- 
ward, expecting to see Ephraim close behind. But he 
was nowhere in sight; and in a flash of horror the girl 
realized that she was lost. 


CHAPTER XV. 


A NEW FRIEND FOR THE OLD. 

“Lost ! I’m lost ! Right here in this great city full of 
folks. It seemed so easy to find Mr. Hale and it was so 
hard. There are so many streets — which one is right? 
There are so many people — oh ! if they’d stop going by 
just for one minute, till I could think.” 

The passing crowd that had so interested now terri- 
fied her. Among all the changing faces not one she 
knew, not one that more than glanced her way, and was 
gone on, indifferent. The memory of a time in her 
early childhood when she had strayed into the canyon 
and became bewildered flashed through her mind. Was 
she to suffer again the misery of that dreadful day? 
But the day had ended in a father’s rescuing arms, and 
now 

‘T remember he told me then that if ever I were lost 
again I was to keep perfectly still for a time and think 
over all the things I’d seen by the way. After awhile 
I might feel sure enough to go slowly back and guide 
myself by them. But I can’t think here. It’s so noisy 
and thick with men and women. And I’m getting so 
hungry. Ephraim said we would have the best dinner his 
friend could give us. If he’d only told me that friend’s 
name or where he lived. Well, I’ll mind my father in 
one thing ; I’ll keep still. Then if Ephraim should hap- 


168 


JESSICA TRENT. 


pen to come this way he’d find me sooner. But — he 
won’t. Something has happened, or he’d never have 
let me out of sight. If I didn’t know the bigness of a 
city he did and would have taken care.” 

So she dismounted and led Scruff back beside the tele- 
graph post, against which the weary animal calmly 
leaned his shoulder and went to sleep. Jessica threw her 
arm over the burro’s neck and, standing so, scanned every 
passing pedestrian and peered into every whirling vehicle. 

Something of her first terror left her. She was fool- 
ish to think anything harmful could have happened to 
“Forty-niner” so quickly after she had run away from 
him. She wished she had called and explained to him, 
but she had had no time if she would catch up to that 
gray-coated gentleman. After all they were still in the 
same city and all she needed was patience. 

“That’s what I have so little of, too. Maybe this is a 
lesson to me. Mother says impatient people always find 
life harder than the quiet kind. I wonder what she’s 
doing now ! and oh ! I’m glad she can’t see me. She’d 
suffer more than I do. It’s queer how that man, in a 
fancy coat, with so many brass buttons, keeps looking at 
me. He’s walked by this place on one side the street or 
the other ever so many times. I wonder if he owns this 
post. Maybe it’s his and he doesn’t like us to stand here, 
yet is too polite to say so. Come, Scruff, let’s walk a 
little further along. Then he can see we don’t mean to 
hurt his post.” 

Scruff reluctantly roused and moved a pace or two, 
then went to sleep again. The shadow of a building that 


A NEW FRIEND FOR THE OLD. 


169 


had sheltered them from the hot sunshine passed grad- 
ually away and left them exposed to the full glare from 
the sky. Both Jessica and the burro were used to heat, 
however, and did not greatly suffer from it. But this 
motionless waiting became almost intolerable to active 
Lady Jess, and the sharpness of her hunger changed into 
faintness. The sidewalks seemed to be rising up to strike 
her and her head felt queer; so she pulled the hot Tam 
from her curls, leaned her cheek against Scruff’s neck, 
and, to clear her dizzy vision, closed her eyes. Then 
for a long time knew no more. 

A young man sat down to smoke his after-dinner cigar 
before the window of a clubhouse across the way. Idly 
observant of the comparatively few persons passing at 
that hour, his artist eye was caught by the scarlet gleam 
of Jessica’s cap, fallen against the curbstone. 

“Hello ! That child has been in that spot for two 
hours, I think. She was there before I went to dinner 
and must be dead tired. But she and the burro are pic- 
turesque — ril sketch them.” 

He whipped out notebook and pencil and by a few skill- 
ful lines reproduced the pair opposite. But as he glanced 
toward them, now and then, during this operation, he 
became convinced that something was amiss with his 
subject. 

“Poor little thing! If she’s waiting for anybody he or 
she keeps the baby too long. I’m going over and speak 
to her. If she’s hungry I’ll send her a sandwich.” 

At his touch on her shoulder Jessica roused. Her sleep 


170 


JESSICA TRENT. 


had refreshed her, though she was still somewhat con- 
fused. 

‘‘Oh ! Ephraim ! How long you’ve been ! Why — it 
isn’t Ephraim !” 

“No, little girl. I’m not Ephraim, but I’m a friend. 
I’m afraid you will be ill standing so long in the hot sun. 
Are you waiting for anybody?” 

The voice was kind and Jessica was glad to speak to 
any one. She told her story at once in a few words. 
The young man’s face grew grave as he listened, still 
he spoke encouragingly. 

“It’s quite easy for strangers in a big place to get sepa- 
rated. Suppose, since you haven’t had your dinner, as I 
guess, that you go with me and have some. Wait, I’ll 
just speak to that policeman, yonder, and ask him to have 
a lookout for your Ephraim, while we’re in the restau- 
rant. There’s a good place halfway down the block, and 
from its window you can watch the burro for yourself. 
I’ll tie him, shan’t I?” 

“He’s very tired. I don’t think he’ll need any tying. 
He’s never tied at Sobrante.” 

“Sobrante? Are you from Sobrante? Why, I’ve heard 
of that ranch, myself.” 

“Have you? That makes it seem as if I knew you.” 

The stranger smiled and beckoned to the policeman, 
who proved to be the brass-buttoned individual that had 
taken so much apparent interest in Jessica, but had not 
spoken to her of his own accord. He came forward 
promptly now and the young man related to him what 
Lady Jess had said. Then asked : 


A NEW FRIEND FOR THE OLD. 


171 


“What would I better do about it ? I thought of taking 
her to the restaurant over there and getting her some 
dinner.” 

“No. She’d better go to the station-house with me 
The matron’ll look after her and I’ll have the donkey 
put in stable. I’ll tell the officer who’s coming on this 
beat now to keep an eye out for a countryman with a 
stiff-legged horse; is it, girl?” 

“Yes. A bay horse, with a blazed face. The horse’s 
name is Stiffleg and the master’s, Ephraim Marsh.” 

The officer made the entry in his book, then took hold 
of Scruff’s bridle and led the way station ward. Jessica 
looked appealingly into the young man’s face and he 
smiled, then grasped her hand. 

“Don’t fear, child, that I’ll desert you till I find your 
old guardian. There’s nothing frightful about a station- 
house, except to criminals,” he said, kindly. 

However, Jessica knew nothing of such institutions 
and therefore had no fear of them. With the exception 
of Antonio’s “crossness” she had met with nothing but 
love and kindness all her life, and she looked for nothing 
else. She was already happy again at finding two per- 
sons ready to talk with her and help her; and her pretty 
face grew more and more charming to the artist’s view 
as she skipped along beside him toward the police head- 
quarters, as this station chanced to be. 

“You see, little girl, that when a child is lost in a city 
the first thing the friends think of is — the station-house. 
All stray persons are taken and messages are sent to 
it from every part of the town all the time. That 


172 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Ephraim will remember that, if he’s ever been here be- 
fore, and he’ll be finding you long before night. Till 
then you’ll be safe and cared for.” 

Jessica did feel a moment’s hesitation when she had to 
part with Scrufif, but soon laughed at her own dismay. 

“I felt as I must take him inside this building wjth me, 
for fear he’d be lonesome, too. But, of course, I know 
better. Why, what a nice, big place this is!” 

By far the largest building she had ever entered, but 
her new acquaintances smiled at her delight over it. 

“Not all who come here think it so fine,” said the 
young man. “Eh, officer?” 

“No, no. No, indeed, sir. Now, this way, please. I’ll 
just enter the case at the desk and call up the matron. 
She’ll tend to the girl all right. You needn’t bother any 
more.” 

“Oh! are you going?” asked Jessica, her face drooping. 

“Not yet. No law against my having a meal with this 
young lady, is there, officer?” 

“If it isn’t at the public charge, sir,” answered the 
policeman. 

“Oh! I’ve money to pay for our dinner. See?” cried 
Lady Jess, producing the fat wallet Ephraim had given 
her and which she pulled from within her blouse, where 
she had worn it, suspended by a string. 

“Whew ! child ! All that ? Put it up, quick. Put it up, 
I say.” 

Instinctively she obeyed and hid the purse again, but 
her face expressed her surprise, and the young man an- 
swered its unspoken question, 


. A NEW FRIEND FOR THE OLD. 


173 


“Very few little girls of your age ever have so much 
money as that about them. None ever should have. 
It’s too' great a temptation to evil-minded persons, and 
a good many of that sort come here. Ah ! the matron ! 
ril ask her to show us into some less public place and Fll 
order a dinner from that restaurant near by.” 

In response to his request the motherly woman in 
charge of the women’s quarters offered him her own 
little sitting-room; “if they’ll say yes to it in the office,” 
she added, as a condition. 

This was soon arranged, the dinner followed and a 
very hungry Jessica sat down to enjoy it. Her com- 
panion also pretended to eat, but encouraged her to talk 
and found himself interested in her every moment. He, 
also, promptly told her who he was ; a reporter and oc- 
casional artist, on one of the leading daily papers. A 
man always on the lookout for “material,” and as such he 
meant to use the sketch he had made. He showed her 
the sketch, and explained that he would put an item in the 
next issue of his paper which might meet the eye of the 
missing sharpshooter and notify that person where to find 
her, if he had not done so before. 

Jessica did not know that it was an unwise thing to 
make a confidant of a stranger, but in this instance she 
was safe enough ; and it pleased her to tell, as him to listen 
to, the whole history of Sobrante ; its fortunes and mis- 
fortunes, and the object of her present visit to this far- 
off town. 

His business instinct was aroused. He realized that 
here might be “material,” indeed. He was young and 


174 


JESSICA TRENT. 


sincere enough to be enthusiastic. Times were a little 
dull. There was quite a lull in murders and robberies; 
this story suggested either a robbery or swindle of some 
sort, and on a big scale. His paper would appreciate his 
getting a “scoop” on its contemporaries, and, in a word, 
he resolved to make Jessica Trent’s cause his own, for 
the time being. 

“Look here, child, don’t you worry. You stay right 
quiet in this place with Matron Wood. I’ll get out and 
hustle. Here’s my card, Ninian Sharp, of The Lancet. 
That’s a paper has cut a good many knots and shall cut 
yours. I’ve heard of Cassius Trent. Everybody has, in 
California. I’ll find that Lawyer Hale. I’ll find old 
“Forty-niner” and I’ll be back in this room before bed- 
time. Now, go play with the rest of the lost children — 
you’re by no means the only one in Los Angeles to-day. 
Or take a nap would be wiser. Look out for her, Matron 
Wood. Any good turn done this little maid is done The 
Lancet. Good-by, for a time.” 

Smiling, alert, he departed and Jessica felt as if he had 
taken all her anxieties with him. She followed the 
matron into the big room where were the other estrays, 
whom Mr. Sharp had told her she would find, waiting 
to be claimed by their friends, but none was as large as 
she. Some were so little she wondered how they ever 
could have wandered anywhere away from home; but 
she loved all children and these reminded her of Ned 
and Luis. 

Promptly she had them all about her, and for the rest 
of that day, at least. Matron Wood’s cares were light- 


A NEW FRIEND FOR THE OLD. 


175 


ened. Yet one after another, some person called to 
claim this or that wanderer, with cries of rapture or harsh 
words of reproof, as the case might be. Jessica kissed 
each little one good-by, but with each departure felt her- 
self growing more homesick and depressed. By sunset 
she was the only child left in the matron’s care, and her 
loneliness so overcame her that she had trouble to keep 
back her tears. 

“But I’ll not cry. I will not be so babyish. Besides, 
crying wouldn’t help bad matters and I’ve come away 
from Sobrante on a big mission. Even that jolly Mr. 
Sharp said, ‘That’s a considerable of a job,’ when I told 
him. He was funny. Always laughing and so quick. 
I wish he’d come soon. It seems to take as long for him 
to find Ephraim as it would me. I should think any- 
body could have walked the whole city over by this time,” 
she thought, in her ignorance of distances. Then she 
asked : 

“When do you think they’ll come. Matron Wood?” 

The good woman waked from a “cat-nap” and was 
tired enough to be impatient. 

“Oh ! don’t bother. If they’re not here by nine o’clock 
you’ll have to go to bed. You should be thankful that 
there is such a place as this for just such folks as you. 
Like as not he’ll never come. You can’t tell anything 
about them newspaper men. But you listen to that bell, 
will you? I don’t see what makes me so sleepy. If it 
rings, wake me up.” 

The minutes sped on. In the now silent room the 
portly matron slumbered peacefully and Jessica tried, 


176 


JESSICA TRENT. 


though vainly, to keep a faithful watch. She did not 
know that her weary companion was breaking rules and 
laying herself open to disgrace ; but she was herself very 
tired, so, presently, her head dropped on the table and she 
was also asleep. 

Ninian Sharp found the pair thus, and jested with the 
matron when he waked her in a way that sounded very 
much like earnest. “He would have her removed,” and 
so on ; thereby frightening Jessica, who had been roused 
by their voices, and looked from one to the other in keen 
distress. 

“I did — I did try to listen for the bell, but it was so 
still and I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry ” 

“Pooh ! child. No more could 1. It’ll be all right if 
this gentleman knows enough to hold his tongue,” said 
the woman, anxiously. 

“I shouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t — where a lady 
is concerned. And I judge from appearances it’s about 
time Miss Jessica went to bed.” 

The girl’s heart sank. This meant disappointment. 
She understood that without further words, and turned 
away her face to hide the tears which would come now, 
in spite of all her will. 

Then the reporter’s hand was on her curls. 

“Keep up your courage, child. I’ve been hustling, as 
I said I would. I’ve found out a lot. I’ve had boys 
searching the hotel records all over town and I know in 
which one your Mr. Hale is staying. He’ll keep — till we 
need him.” 

“But Ephraim? Have you heard nothing of him?” 


A NEW FRIEND FOR THE OLD. 177 

“I heard a funny yarn about a horse with a stiff leg; 
that the moment the sound of a drum was in his ears 
coolly tossed his aged rider into the gutter and marched 
off with the brass band, head up, eyes flashing, tail 
switching, a soldier with the best of them. See— it’s here 
in this evening’s Gossip ” 

He held the sheet toward her and Jessica read the 
humorous account of Stiffleg’s desertion. But there was 
no account of what had further befallen Ephraim, and it 
seemed but a poor excuse for his non-appearance. 

She tossed the paper aside, impatiently : 

“But he had his own two good feet left. He could 
have followed me on them ! I — I — he was always so 
faithful before.” 

Mr. Sharp’s face sobered. 

“He is faithful still, but his feet will serve him poorly 
for the next few weeks. Maybe months. Old bones are 
slow to heal, and the surgeon says it is a compound frac- 
ture. When he fell into the gutter, as my co-laborer so 
gayly puts it, he ‘broke himself all to smash.’ He’s in 
hospital. As a great favor from the authorities in charge 
I’ve seen him. I’ve told him about you. I’ve promised to 
befriend you and I’ll take you to see him in the morning. 
I’m sorry that your first night in our angelic city must be 
passed in a station-house, but I reckon it’s the safest till 
I can think of some fitter shelter. Good-night. My 
mother used to say that the Lord never shut one door 
but He opened another. Ephraim laid up — here am I. 
Count on me. Good-night.” 


CHAPTER XVL 


A HOSPITAL REUNION. 

When Ninian Sharp sat down to smoke a cigar at the 
window of his club it was with no idea that he was then 
and there to begin a bit of detective work which should 
make him famous. For, though this is anticipating, that 
was the reward which the future held for him because of 
his yielding to a kindly impulse. 

Through him, the helplessness of a little girl won for 
an almost hopeless cause the aid of a great newspaper, 
than which there is no influence more potent. It took 
but one hearing of Jessica’s story to rouse his interest 
and to convince him that here was a “good thing if it 
could be well worked up.” It promised a “sensation” 
that would result in benefit to his paper, to himself, and — 
for his credit be it said — to the family of the dead phi- 
lanthropist. 

After he had bidden Lady Jess good-night, the reporter 
called at the hotel where Morris Hale was registered and 
held an interview with that gentleman. The result of this 
was pleasing to both men. They had one common object : 
the recovery of the missing money which had been en- 
trusted to Cassius Trent. Mr. Hale wished this for the 
sake of his New York patrons, but now hoped, as did 
Ninian Sharp, that if it were accomplished it would also 
clear the memory of Jessica’s father from the stain resting 


A HOSPITAL REUNION. 


179 


upon it. For the present, they decided to join forces, so 
to speak. By agreement, they went together to the 
station-house on the following morning, and found Lady 
Jess looking out of a window with a rather dreary 
interest in the scene. But she instantly caught sight of 
them and darted to the doorway to meet them, holding 
out both hands toward the lawyer and entreating: 

“Oh ! I beg your pardon for the ‘boys’ ! And for us 
that we should ever have let it happen to any guest of 
Sobrante. Can you forgive it?” 

The reporter looked curious and Mr. Hale’s face flushed 
at the painful memory her words had revived. But he did 
not explain and passed the matter over, saying : 

“Don’t mention it, my child. Odd, isn’t it? To think 
you should follow me so quickly all this long way. Well, 
you deserve success and I’m going to help you to it, if I 
can. So is this new friend you’ve made. Now, are you 
ready to see poor ‘Forty-niner’? If so, get your cap, 
bid the matron good-by, and we’ll be off.” 

Jessica obeyed, quickly; taking leave of Mrs. Wood 
with warm expressions of gratitude for her “nice bed 
and breakfast,” and assuring that rather skeptical person 
that these men “were certainly all right, because one of 
them had been at her own dear home and her mother 
had recognized him for a gentleman. The other — why, 
the other wrote for a newspaper. Even drew pictures 
for it ! Think of that !” 

“Humph ! A man might do worse. But, never mind. 
This is the place to come to if you get into any more 
trouble. Here’s the street and number it is, and here’s 


180 


JESSICA TRENT. 


my name on a piece of paper. Now, it’s to be put in 
the book about your going, who takes you, and where. 
After that — after that I suppose there’s nothing more.” 

Ninian Sharp watched this little , by-play with much 
interest, and remarked to the lawyer : 

“That child has a charm for all she meets. Even this 
old police matron, whose heart ought to be as tough as 
shoeleather, looks doleful at parting with her. I think 
her the most winning little creature I ever met.” 

“You should see her with her ‘boys,’ as she calls the 
workmen at Sobrante. They idolize her and obey her 
blindly. Sometimes, their devotion going further than 
obedience,” he added, with a return of annoyance in his 
expression. 

As she stepped into the street, Jessica clasped a hand 
of each, with joyful confidence, and they smiled at one 
another over her head, leading her to the next corner 
where they hailed a car and the reporter bade her jump 
aboard. 

“Am I to ride in that ? Oh, delightful !” 

“Delightful” now seemed everything about her. 
Friends were close at hand and a few minutes would 
bring her to Ephraim. That he was injured and helpless 
she knew, yet could not realize; while she could and did 
realize to the full all the novelty about her. The swift 
motion of the electric car, the gay and busy streets, the 
palm-bordered avenues they crossed, the ever-changing 
scenes of the city, each richer and more wonderful than 
the other, in her inexperienced eyes. 

She would have liked to ask many questions^ but her 


A HOSPITAL REUNION. 


181 


companions were now conversing in low tones and she 
would not interrupt. Soon, however, she saw Mr. Sharp 
make a slight gesture with his hand and the car stopped. 
“Our street," he said, rising. 

A brief walk afterward brought them to a big building, 
standing somewhat back from the avenue, with a green 
lawn and many trees about it. Above the several gate- 
ways of its iron fence were signs, indicating: “Accident 
Ward," “Convalescents’ Ward," “General Hospital," 
“Nurses’ Home," “Dispensary," etc., all of which con- 
fused and somewhat startled the country-reared girl. 
The more, it may be, as, at that moment, the gong of an 
ambulance warned them to step oflf the crossing before 
the “accident" alley beside the main building, and the big 
van dashed toward an open door. 

Jessica gripped Mr. Hale’s hand, nervously, and 
watched in a sort of fascination while white-garbed at- 
tendants lifted an injured man from the ambulance and 
carried him tenderly into the hospital. 

“Is— is he hurt?" 

“Yes, dear, I suppose so." 

“Was it like that they brought Ephraim here?" 

“Probably." 

“Oh ! how dreadful ! My poor, poor ‘Forty-niner !’ " 

“Rather, how merciful. But come; such a brave little 
woman as you mustn’t show the white feather at the mere 
sight of a hospital van. Ephraim has been well cared for, 
be sure ; and as he has been* told to expect you he’ll be 
disappointed if you bring him a scared, unhappy face." 


182 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“Then Til — Fll smile,” she answered, promptly, though 
the effort was something of a failure. 

Soon they entered the building, whose big halls were 
so silent in contrast with the street outside, and where the 
white-clad doctors and nurses seemed to Jessica like 
“ghosts” as they moved softly here and there. Again she 
clinched the lawyer’s hand and whispered : 

“It’s awful. It smells queer. I’m afraid. Aren’t 
you ?” 

“Not in the least. I like it. I’ve been a patient in just 
such places more than once and think of them as the most 
blessed institutions in the world. The odor of chemicals 
and disinfectants is noticeable at first, but one soon gets 
accustomed to it and likes it. At any rate I do. But, see, 
we’re falling behind. Mr. Sharp evidently knows his 
way well and we must liurry if we’d keep him in sight.” 

Indeed, the reporter was just disappearing around a 
turn of the broad staircase leading up into a sunlighted 
corridor. He was quick and decided in all his movements, 
and had paused but for one instant to speak with an at- 
tendant at the door before he took his direct way to 
Ephraim’s room. 

“Why, I supposed he was in the general ward,” said 
Mr. Hale, as he joined Ninian, who had to stop and wait 
for his more .leisurely advance. 

“He was, but he couldn’t stand it. So I had him put 
into a private room and he’s much better satisfied. He 
has money enough to pay for it and if he hadn’t — well, it 
was just pitiful to see the old man’s own distress at sight 


A HOSPITAL reunion. l83 

of the distress of others all about him. I’d have had to 
do it, even if it had taken my bottom dollar.” 

“True to your class ! I’ve always heard that newspaper 
men were the most generous in the world, and now I be- 
lieve it. Well, count me in, too, on this transaction. But 
when were you here?” 

“Late last night and — early this morning.” 

“Whew ! If you put such energy as that into the rest of 
the business you’ll make a speedy finish of it !” 

“That’s my intention. Well, child, here we are. Put 
your best foot forward and cheer up that forlorn old 
chap.” 

Jessica had paused to look down a great ward, opening 
upon that corridor, and was staring, spellbound, at the 
rows upon rows of white beds, each with its occupant, 
and at the white-capped nurses bending over this or that 
sufiferer. The wide, uncurtained windows, all open to the 
soft morning air, the snowy walls, the cleanliness and 
repose impressed her. 

“Why — it’s nice ! I thought it would be dreadful ; and 
where is Ephraim? Can I go in? How shall I find him 
among so many?” 

“Don’t you understand? This way, I said. Lady Jess. 
The sharpshooter wants to see his captain.” 

She turned swiftly at that, and the smile he had hoped 
to rouse was on her face as she caught the reporter’s 
hand. 

‘‘\Yhy — how did you know that? Who told you I was 
Lady Jess, or captain?” 

“Who but ‘Forty-niner’ himself? Here he is,” and 


184 


JESSICA TRENT. 


he gently forced her through an open doorway into a 
little room, which seemed a miniature of the great ward 
beyond. There was the same white spotlessness, another 
kind-faced nurse, and another prostrate patient. 

“Ephraim ! Ephraim ! You poor, dear, precious dar- 
ling!” 

She was beside him, her arms about his neck, her tears 
and kisses raining on his wrinkled face — a face that a 
moment before had been full of sadness and impatience, 
but was now brimming with delight. 

“Little lady I Little captain 1 Em a pretty sort of a 
guardeen, I am ! But, thank God, I’m not the only man in 
the world, and you’ve found them that can help you more 
than I could, with all my smartness. Did you hear about 
that turn-tail, Stiffleg? Wasn’t that enough to make a 
man disgusted with horseflesh forever after ? Ugh ! I 
wish I had him. I’d larrup him well ! And to think you, 
Cassius Trent’s daughter, spent your first night in town 
at a station-house ! Child, I’ll never dare to go home 
and face the ‘boys’ again, after that. Never.” 

“Don’t talk too much, sir,” cautioned the nurse, offer- 
ing her patient a spoonful of some nourishment. 

“No, Ephraim, I’ll talk. Oh 1 what wouldn’t Aunt 
Sally give to be here now I To think she’s lost such a 
chance for dosing you 1” 

“Forty-niner” laughed and the laughter did him good ; 
though he soon explained : “They say I’ll have to lie 
here for nobody knows how long, without moving, 
scarcely. That pesky old leg of mine did the job up 
thorough, while it was at it. Thought it might as well 


A HOSPITAL REUNION. 


185 


be hung for a sheep as a lamb, I s’pose. Well, it was the 
luckiest thing ever happened — you getting lost and me 
getting hurt. That’s the only way to look at it. But — 
Atlantic ! How’m I ever going to stand it ? Having 
other folks do for you and I, that’d give my right hand 
to help you — useless.” 

“Easily, Ephraim. If it’s a good thing, as you say, 
why then it can’t be a bad one. Here’s your money. 
You must use it to pay for anything you want. Or give 
it all to Mr. Hale about the business. You know.” 

“Money ! I don’t want that. All I had they took away 
from me. Put it in the hospital safe till I’m ready to go 
out. But you can’t live in a city without hard cash in 
every pocket. Oh ! dear ! I don’t see what is to be done ! 
One minute it all is clear and I think what I said about 
my accident being lucky for you ; the next — I can’t stand 
it. What is to become of you, little captain?” 

“I’m going to stay right here with you.” 

“You are? You will?” demanded the patient, eagerly. 
“You wouldn’t be afraid? But, maybe, you wouldn’t be 
allowed. Hospitals are for sick folks and old fools that 
don’t know enough to sit a horse steady. They’re not 
for a happy little girl, who can make new friends for her- 
self anywhere. No. I guess, maybe, that Mr. Hale’ll 
find you a place, or get you on the cars to go home again. 
Oh! child, I wish you were safe back at Sobrante this 
minute I” 

“And our work not done? Foolish ‘boy!’ As if I’d 
leave you alone, either, when you’re ill and — and Aunt 
Sally so far away.” 


186 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Ephraim groaned and Jessica looked toward the re- 
porter, who was talking earnestly with the nurse, just 
outside in the corridor. She heard him say : 

“If it could be arranged it would be a solution of the 
whole difficulty. Her board would be assured, and at 
the first opportunity she shall be sent to her home. For 
the present ” 

She felt it no shame to listen intently. She knew 
that they were discussing herself and what was to be 
done with her. On that subject she had already made up 
her own mind; so she slipped her hand from Ephraim’s 
and stepped to Mr. Sharp’s side. 

“I want to stay right here in this hospital. I will not 
make anybody a bit of trouble. I will mind everything 
I am told. I’ll not talk or laugh or anything I should not. 
I’ll help take care of Ephraim and there’s nobody who 
knows him here but me. He’s the best man there can be, 
and he’s old, though he doesn’t look it. Please let me 
stay. Anyway until all the money is spent. There’s 
enough for a while, I think. Please.” 

In answer to the reporter’s look, rather than Jessica’s 
words, the nurse replied: 

“Yes, we do often have friends of the patients here. If 
there happen to be rooms empty and so to spare. But a 
child — we never had a child-boarder before. I’ll consult 
the head nurse and let you know at once. Or, better, 
why not go and see her for yourself?” 

“I’d much prefer,” said Ninian, who had more faith 
in his own persuasive powers than in hers. “And I’ll 
take Jessica with me.” 


A HOSPITAL REUNION. 


187 


The result was that the little girl was allowed to “re- 
main for the present,” and was assigned a room very 
near Ephraim’s. Upon her good behavior, as viewed 
from a hospital standpoint, depended the continuance of 
her stay. 

“She can have her clothes sent here, but only what are 
necessary,” added the lady, as she dismissed them. 

“My clothes! Why — I don’t know where they are.” 

“Whew ! What do you mean ? I — I never thought 
about clothes,” said Ninian Sharp. 

“Nor I, before, since I came. I had only a change of 
underwear and another flannel frock. Ephraim was to 
buy me more if I needed, though mother thought I should 
not. But what I did have were in the saddlebags on 
Stiffleg’s back.” ' 

“And he marched off to glory with them, the old 
soldier, eh? Well, that’s soon remedied. There are lots 
of stores in Los Angeles and lots of girls your size. I’ll 
get a nurse to fix you out, when she can, and now, back 
to Ephraim and good-by.” 


CHAPTER XVIL 


THE FINDING OF ANTONIO. 

For Jessica Trent there followed weeks of a quieter life 
than she had lived even at isolated Sobrante. ‘‘The be- 
havior,” which was to be a test of her stay, proved so 
pleasing to the hospital residents that some of them 
wondered how they had ever gotten along without her 
helpful, happy presence. 

Very quickly she lost her first vague fear of the place 
and learned to hear in the once alarming ambulance gong 
the signal of relief to somebody. She modulated her 
voice to the prevailing quietude of the house and her foot- 
falls were as light as those of the nurses themselves. To 
many a sufferer, coming there in dread and foreboding, 
the sight of a child familiar and happy about the great 
building brought a feeling of comfort and homelikeness 
which nothing else could have given. She was so apt 
and imitative that Ephraim often declared: 

“All you need, Lady Jess, is a cap and apron to make 
you a regular professional. Take care of me better’ll any 
of ’em, you do ; and’ll be a prime experience for you, that’s 
a fact. Another of the good things come out of my fool 
riding, I s’pose. You’ll be able to nurse the whole parcel 
of us, when you get back to Sobrante. Beat Aunt Sally 
all hollow, ’cause you trust a bit to nature and not all 
to — picra.” 


THE FINDING OF ANTONIO. 


189 


“But you’re not ill, Ephraim Marsh. You’re just 
broken. So you don’t need medicine. All you need is 
patience. And your nourishments, regular.” 

“I get them all right; but — patience! Atlantic!” 

The old man sighed. It was weary work for him, 
the hardest he had ever done, to lie so motionless while 
he was so anxious to be active. He really suffered little 
and he had the best of care. Still, he sighed again, and, 
unfortunately, Jessica echoed the sigh. Then he looked 
at her keenly and spoke the thought which had been in his 
mind for a long time : " 

“Captain, you must go home. There’s twenty to need 
bossing there and only one poor old carcass here.” 

Poor Lady Jess 1 She tried to answer brightly as was 
her habit, but that day homesickness was strong upon 
her, and at mention of Sobrante her courage failed. She 
forgot that she was a “nurse”; she forgot the good “be- 
havior,” forgot everything, indeed, but her mother’s face 
and Ned’s mischievous affection. She dropped to her 
knees and buried her face in the old man’s pillow while 
she sobbed aloud : 

“Oh, ‘Forty-niner,’ shall we ever see that home again ?” 

Weak and unstrung, the patient moaned in sympathy, 
while tears fell from his own eyes ; and it was upon this 
dismal tableau that Mr. Hale walked in, unannounced. 

“Hurrah, here! What’s amiss? Been quarreling? 
Just when I’ve come to bring you good news, too.” 

“Quarreling, indeed ! Ephraim and I could never 
quarrel. Never. But— but — this isn’t Sobrante, and 
we’re — I guess we’re awful homesick.” 


190 


JESSICA TRENT* 


“That’s a disease can be cured, you know. One of 
you, at least, can go home. If you wish, Jessica, I will 
put you on a train and arrange for one of your ‘boys’ to 
meet you at the railway terminus. But ” 

“Hello, everybody !’’ called a cheery voice, and there 
in the doorway was Ninian Sharp, smiling, nodding, and 
embracing all three with one inspiriting look. “What’s 
that I overheard about ‘home’ ? Been telling state secrets. 
Hale? My plan beats yours, altogether. We’re all going 
‘home’ to Sobrante in a bunch, one of these fine days. 
The Lancet never fails !” 

Jessica sprang to him and caught his hand to kiss it. 
He had not been to see them for some days and she had 
missed him sadly. Far more than Mr. Hale he made 
her feel that the mystery surrounding “that missing 
New York money,” as she called it, would certainly be 
explained. It was he who, by questions innumerable, had 
recalled to her and to Ephraim the names of persons with 
whom Mr. Trent had ever done business. Incidents 
which to her seemed trifling had been of moment in his 
judgment. With the slight clews they had given him, 
as the first link in the chain, he had gone on unraveling 
the knots which followed with an infinite patience and 
perseverance. He kept Mrs. Trent informed of the wel- 
fare of her daughter, and, without neglecting his legiti- 
mate business, did the thousand and one things which only 
the busiest of persons can have time to do. For it’s 
always the indolent who are overcrowded. 

“Oh ! Mr. Sharp ! Have you found it all out ?” 

“Not I. Hale, here, has found out some things, him- 


THE FINDING OF ANTONIO. 


191 


self. But he’s a lawyer, which means a — beg pardon — a 
snail. If newspapers were as slow as the law — h-m-m — 
we might all take a nap. Look here, Miss Sunshine, 
you’ve been crying.” 

Jessica blushed as guiltily as if she had been accused 
of some crime. 

“I know it. I’m sorry.” 

“So am 1. I know why. Because you’re shut up here 
like a dormouse when you’ve lived like a lark. On with 
your little red Tam and come with me. Our work is get- 
ting on famously, famously. If I could get hold of one 
person that I’ve hunted this and every other city near for 
I’d have the matter in a nutshell and the guilty man in — a 
prison. I’ve found — three or four more of those links 
I mentioned. Hale, and every man of them is another 
witness to the uprightness of one, Cassius Trent, late of 
Sobrante. I began this job for little Jess, but I confess 
I’m finishing it for the sake of a man I never saw. He 
was a trump, that fellow. One of the great-hearted, im- 
practicable creatures that keep my faith in humanity. If 
we could only find that Antonio !” 

“Yes. If! But when he rode away from Sobrante 
that day he seems to have ridden out of the world, as far 
as any trace he left behind. I’m getting discouraged, 
for without him all the rest falls to the ground.” 

“Well, discouraged? We’ll just step out and find him, 
won’t we, Lady Jess?” 

She had hastened to ask permission to go out with her 
friend and had come back radiant, now, at prospect even 
of so brief an outing. It was quite as the reporter had 


192 


JESSICA TRENT. 


judged; the close confinement of the hospital, after the 
out-of-door life at Sobrante, was half the cause of Jes- 
sica's depression, and she was ready now to fall in with 
the gay mood of Ninian Sharp and answered, promptly: 

“Oh, yes. We'll find ‘him,' since you wish it. But 
I don’t happen to know which ‘him’ you want?" 

“Why, our fine Senor Bernal. Who else?" 

“Then let us go to the old Spanish quarter." 

“I’ve been, many times. Sent others also. No. He’s 
a wise chap and if he is in this town frequents no haunt 
where he’ll be looked for so surely. No matter. It’s a 
picturesque corner of the town and maybe a sight of some 
old adobes would do your homesick eyes good." 

“Or harm," suggested Mr. Hale. 

But they did not stop to hear his objections and were 
speedily on the car which would take them nearest to 
the district Jessica had heard of, both from Antonio at 
home and now from others here. A relic of the old Cali- 
fornia, whose history she loved to hear from the lips of 
Pedro, Fra Mateo, or even “Forty-niner" himself. 

But once arrived there she was disappointed. They 
were old adobes, true enough, and the people who lived 
in them had the same dark, Spanish cast of face which 
she remembered of Antonio. Yet there the resemblance 
ended. This was the home of squalor, of poverty that 
was not self-respecting enough to be clean, and of an 
indolence which had brought about a wretched state of 
affairs. 

_“Oh ! is this it ? But it can’t be. Antonio’s ‘quarter’ 
was a splendid place. The old grandees lived there, 


THE FINDING OF ANTONIO. 


193 


keeping up a sort of court and all the customs of a hun- 
dred years ago. It was ‘a picture, a romance, a dream,’ 
he said. Of an evening he would describe it all to us 
at home till I felt as if it were the one spot in the world 
I most wished to see. But — thisT 

“Turn not up your pretty nose, for ‘this,' my dear 
little unenlightened maiden, is also a dream — a night- 
mare. Nevertheless, the very ground your lost hero 
boasted and embellished with his fancy. The more I 
hear of this versatile Antonio the greater becomes my 
longing to behold him. In any case, since we’re here, 
we must not go away without entering some of these 
shops. You shall buy a trinket or two and present one 
of them as a keepsake to this fine senor, when you find 
him. Oh ! that I had your familiar knowledge of his 
features, this absent ‘grandee,’ that if by accident I met 
him I might know him on the instant. See. This ‘bazaar’ 
is somewhat tidier than its neighbors, as well as larger, 
and there are some really beautiful Navajo blankets in 
the window. Unfortunately the pocketbook of a reporter 
isn’t quite equal to more than a dozen of these, at fifty 
dollars apiece. Something more modest, Lady Jess, and 
ril oblige you !” 

She looked up to protest and saw that he was teasing, 
and exclaimed, with an air of mock injury : 

“Those or nothing! But when shall I learn to under- 
stand your jest from earnest?” 

“When you produce me your Antonio!” 

“Upon the instant, then,” she retorted, gayly. 

Upon the instant, indeed, there were hurrying footsteps 


194 


JESSICA TRENT. 


behind them, the sound .of some one breathing rapidly 
and of angrily muttered sentences, that were a jumble of 
Spanish and English, and in a voice which made Jessica 
Trent start and turn aside, clutching her companion’s 
hand. 

He turned, also, throwing his arm about her shoulders, 
lest the rush of the man approaching should force her 
from the narrow sidewalk. But she darted from him, 
straight into the path of this wild-looking person and 
seized him with both hands, while she cried out : 

, ‘Tt’s he! It is Antonio! I’ve found him — Antonio 
Bernal !” 

“Whew ! A case of the ‘unexpected,’ indeed ! The 
merest jest and the absolute fact. Hi ! I’d rather this 
than — than be struck by lightning, and it’s on about the 
same order of things, for it is he, as she claimed. He’s 
more staggered than I am,” considered this lively news- 
paper man. Then he thought it time to step forward, and 
remark : 

“Please present me to your friend. Miss Trent,” and 
lifted his hat, courteously. 

Antonio bowed, after his own exaggerated fashion, 
and with his hand upon his heart; but though his eyes 
rested keenly on Ninian’s face he kept tight hold of 
Jessica’s hand and his torrent of words did not cease 
for an instant. Now and then he lifted the little hand 
and kissed it, whereupon Lady Jess would snatch it away 
and coolly wipe it on her skirt, only to have it recaptured 
and caressed; till, seeing he would neither give over the 


THE FINDING OF ANTONIO. 


195 


hateful action nor stop talking, she folded her arms be- 
hind her and interrupted with: 

“That’s enough, Sehor Bernal. This isn’t Sobrante, 
but I’m your captain here, same as there. You come tell 
your story to Mr. Hale and this gentleman. See Ephraim 
Marsh, too. He’s here in hospital with a broken leg. 
I’m in Los Angeles, also, as you see; and likely to find 
the same man you say has cheated you. That’s what 
he’s telling, Mr. Sharp,” she explained. 

Antonio hesitated. He had frowned at her tone of 
command, but now, to the reporter’s amazement, seemed 
eager to obey it. 

“As the senorita will. That gentleman, who came last 
to Sobrante, was one lawyer, no? So the senora said. 
Fool! fool! that I was that I did not then and at that 
moment so disclose the secrets of my heart as was moved, 
yes. Let the senorita and the handsome friend lead on. 
I follow. I, Antonio.” 

Five minutes earlier, had Ninian Sharp been asked 
what he should do if he did find this strange person, he 
would have promptly answered: 

“Put him under lock and key, where he can do ncv 
harm and be handy to get at.” 

Now he found himself as certain that the fellow needed 
no restraint of the law, at present. That he was dread- 
fully unhappy and had become as humble as he had before 
been arrogant. What could so have altered him? And 
was it thus that the Lady Jess had all her “boys” in 
leading strings ? 

“I must look out for myself or I’ll fall under a like 


196 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Spell/’ he laughed, as with the air of one who knows it 
all, though she had been over that way but once, Jessica 
explained to her late manager: 

' “This car will take us straight back to the hospital. 
We’ve not been away long and I think Mr. Hale will 
still be there. He’ll be glad to see you. Very glad. He 
and Mr. Sharp have been looking for you. I think you 
can tell them something they’re anxious to know. Eph- 
raim is there, anyhow. He, poor fellow, can’t go away, 
even if he wishes — yet.” 

Mr. Hale was still in “Forty-niner’s” room and recog- 
nized Antonio with such an outburst of surprise that 
Ephraim opened his eyes, for he had been dozing, and 
fixed them on the newcomer, inquiringly. 

“What! You, you snake! you here?'' 

“But certainly, yes. I, I, Antonio, at your service. 
Hast the broken leg? That is bad. Old bones are slow 
to heal. You will not shoot again at dear Sobrahte, you.” 

“Won’t? Well, I rather guess it’ll take somebody 
stronger ’n you to stop it.” 

Antonio shrugged his shoulders in a manner deemed 
offensive by the patient, who struggled to rise, but was 
prevented by Jessica’s quick movement. 

“Ephraim! Antonio! Don’t quarrel, this very first 
minute. One of you is sick and the other half frantic 
with some trouble. Please, Antonio, go away now with 
Mr. Hale and Mr. Sharp. One must never make a noise 
in a hospital,” said this wise maiden of eleven. 

“Ah ! so ? But it is the lawyer I want, yes. The law- 
yer who will make a villain return the great money I have 


THE FINDING OF ANTONIO. 


197 


given. Caramba! If I had him in my hands this 
minute \” 

Jessica lifted a warning finger and the manager low- 
ered his voice. He even made an attempt at soothing 
Ephraim, but chose an unfortunate argument. 

“Take peace to yourself, ‘Forty-niner.’ All must be 
told some day. Adios” 

'‘Adios, you foreign serpent ! Old ? Old ! he calls me 
— me — old! Why, Em a babe in arms to Pedro, or Fra 
Mateo, or even fat Brigida, who washes for us ‘boys.’ 
Old! A man but just turned eighty! Snake, Til out- 
live you yet. I’ll get well, to spite you ; and I’ll be on 
hand, when they let you out the lockup, to give you the 
neatest horsewhippin’ you ever see. Old ! Get out !” 

Fearful of further excitement, the gentlemen hurried 
Antonio away, yet kept a keen watch upon his movements 
for, at that word “lockup,” the man’s dark face had turned 
to an ashen hue. 

As they left the hospital the every-busy ambulance 
rolled past them toward the accident ward. The others 
averted their eyes, but the Spaniard peered curiously 
within, and, instantly a shuddering groan burst from 
his lips. Inside that van lay the solution to all their, 
difficulties; though Antonio alone had comprehended it. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


APPREHENDED. 

V 

The pleasantest task which fell to Jessica’s hands, dur- 
ing her hospital life, was the distributing of flowers and 
fruits, almost daily sent by the charitable for tlie comfort 
of the, patients. 

The nurses received and apportioned these gifts; and, 
carrying her big, tray-like basket. Lady Jess visited each 
ward and room in turn, adding to the pretty offering 
some bright word of her own. For she now had the free- 
dom of the house and knew the occupant of each white 
bed better, even, than his or her attendant nurse. The 
quiet manner which she had gained here, her ready 
help and loving sympathy, made her coming looked for 
eagerly ; but the happiness she thus bestowed was more 
than returned upon her own heart. Could her “boys” 
have seen her they would have been proud, but not sur- 
prised, for to the appreciative words his own attendant 
gave his darling, Ephraim would instantly reply? 

“ ’Course. What else could you expect ? Didn’t she 
have the finest man in the world for her father ? and isn’t 
her mother a lady? Isn’t she, herself, the sweetest, lov- 
ingest, most unselfish child that ever lived? But it’ll be 
meat to feed the ‘boys’ with, all these stories you’re tell- 
ing .me. They most worship her now, and after they 
listen to such talk a spell — h-m-m. The whole secret is 


APPREHENDED. 


199 


just — love. That’s what our captain is made of; pure 
love. ’Twas a good thing for this old earth when she 
was born.” 

“But you’ll spoil her among you, I fear.” 

“Well, you needn’t. . Little Jessica Trent can’t be 
spoiled. ’Cause them same Toys’ would be the first ones 
to take any nonsense out of her, at the first symptoms. 
She couldn’t stand ridicule. It would break her heart; 
but they’d give her ridicule and plenty of it if she put 
on silly airs. You needn’t be afraid for Lady Jess.” 

On that very day, after Antonio had left the hospital 
with his friends, or captors, as the case might prove, 
Jessica went through the building with her tray of roses, 
and in the wing adjoining the accident ward saw a man 
lying in one of the hitherto empty rooms. 

“A new patient. He must have been brought in to- 
day. I’ve never been to the new ones till I was told, 
but I hate to pass him by. I wonder if it would be 
wrong to ask him if he wished a flower ! And how still 
he stays. Yet his eyes are very wide open and so round ! 
He looks like somebody I’ve seen — why, little Luis Gar- 
cia! ’Tis Luis himself, grown old and thin. For Luis’ 
sake, then. I’ll try.” 

A nurse was sitting silent at the patient’s bedside and 
toward her the child turned an inquiring glance. The 
answer was a slight, affirmative nod. The attendant’s 
thought was that it would please Lady Jess to give the 
rose and could do the patient no harm to receive it. In- 
deed, nothing earthly could harm him any more. 

So Jessica stepped softly in and paused beside the cot. 


200 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Her face was full of pity and of a growing astonish- 
ment, for the nearer she beheld it the more startling was 
the sick man’s likeness to a childsh face hundreds of 
miles away. 

Her stare brought the patient’s own vacant gaze back 
to a consciousness of things about him. He saw a yel- 
low-haired girl looking curiously upon him and extend- 
ing toward him a half-blown rose. A fair and unex- 
pected vision in that place of pain, and he asked, half 
querulously : 

“Who are you? An angel come to upbraid me before 
my time?” 

“I’m Jessica Trent, of Sobrante ranch, in Paraiso 
d’Oro valley.” 

“W-h-a-t!” 

The nurse bent forward, but he motioned her aside. 

“Say that again.” 

“I’m just little Jessica Trent. That’s all.” 

“All ! Trent— Trent. Ah !” 

“And you? Are you Luis Garcia’s missing father?” 

“Luis — Luis Garcia. Was it Luis, Ysandra called 
him?” 

“Yes, yes. That was the name on the paper my father 
found pinned to the baby’s dress. The letter told that 
the baby’s father had gone away promising to come back, 
but had never come. The mother had heard of my 
dear father’s goodness to all who needed help, and she 
was on her way to him when her strength gave out. 
So she died there in the canyon, and she said the baby’s 
name was like the father’s. I remember it all, because 


APPREHENDED. 


201 


to us the ‘Maria’ seems like a girl’s name, too. Luis 
Maria Manuel Alessandro Garcia.” 

The man’s round eyes opened wider and wider. It 
seemed as if his glare pierced the child’s very heart, and 
she drew back frightened. The nurse motioned her to 
go, but at her first movement toward the door the patient 
extended his hands imploring: 

“No. Not yet. My time is spent. Let me hear 
all — all. The child your father found — ah ! me ! Your 
father of all men ! Did — did it live ?” 

“Of course it lived. He is a darling little fellow and 
he looks — he looks so like you that I knew you in a mo- 
ment. He has the same wide brown eyes, the same 
black curls, his eyebrows slant so, like yours, he is your 
image. But he is the cutest little chap you ever saw. 
He is my own brother’s age and they have grown up to- 
gether, like twins, I guess. It would break Ned’s heart 
to have you take him away from us. You won’t now, 
will you?” 

A pitiful smile spread over the pain-racked features, 
and the man glanced significantly toward the nurse. She 
smiled encouragingly upon him, but he was not misled. 
After a moment of silence, during which Jessica anx- 
iously watched his drawn face, he spoke. 

“Go, child. Your mission is done. Send a lawyer, 
quick. Quick. The man I wronged— the savior of my 
son ! A lawyer, quick. Bring the suit case — the case ! 
Let none open it but the child. Quick. Quick!” 

Higher authority even than her own convinced the 
nurse that obedience to his urgency was the only way 


202 


JESSICA TRENT. 


now to allay the patient’s rising excitement. The ac- 
cident which had crushed the lower part of his body, so 
that his life was but a question of hours, had left his 
head clear for the present; and here, indeed, seemed a 
case for more than surgical treatment. 

Fortunately, the needed “lawyer” was close at hand, 
waiting with the reporter and the half-distraught An- 
tonio whose shriek of recognition had been Luis Garcia’s 
welcome to the hospital. Unceasingly, the manager had 
declared that this was the man all three of them were 
seeking ; had insisted upon returning to the ante-room of 
the hospital, and vowed that he would never leave the spot 
until the “villain” had been apprehended. 

“He has misled and cheated me. I, Antonio ! He has 
all my money. He has the savings of my life, yes. He 
has all that I did not yet pay, of the crops so good, to 
the Senora Trent. More, more. That money — which, 
ah, me ! He told me, yes, a thousand million times, that 
I, and not that New York company, to me alone was 
the inheritance of Paraiso d’Oro. My money was to 
prove it, that inheritance, yes. To me was the power of 
attorney, was it not? of Cassius Trent, who was the 
so good man and the so poor fool at business.” 

“Look out, there, neighbor! Speaking of fools and 
business, you don’t appear to have been so brilliant your- 
self,” corrected Ninian, promptly. 

Antonio continued, heedless of the interruption : 

“He was the great banker, Garcia, no? What then? 
Who would so safe keep the money from that far New 
York? With the master’s wish I gave it to that bank. 


APPREHENDED. 


203 


And the letters — Caraniba! So high, to one’s knees, to 
one’s waist I pile them, the letters ! All wrote of his own 
hand. All say by-and-by, manana, he give me the per- 
fect title and send back that which belongs, after all ex- 
penses, no? To them in New York.” 

“A pretty scheme. You don’t seem to have profited 
by it greatly, as yet.” 

‘T, profit? But I am now the beggar, I, poor An- 
tonio. This day I come from resting in the houses of 
my friends and I find — what do I find? The bank is 
not. The banker is not, yes. ' His house where he lived 
more plain than our adobes at Sobrante, that house is 
closed. His man tell me this : ‘He has gone away. One 
little, little trip, a journey. Across the sea. He will 
come back. Have patience, Antonio.’ But my money? 
my papers? my inheritance so all but proved? Tush. 
He told me not that. When he comes back you can ask 
him, himself.’ So. Good. He has come back. Here. 
I see him, sure. I ” 

A summons to Mr. Hale cut short this fierce harangue, 
which had been repeated till their ears were tired. 

The banker had come back, indeed, poor creature. By 
the very train on which he was to depart with his plunder 
— all rendered into the solid cash which would tell no 
tales, as he fancied — by this swift-moving juggernaut he 
was overtaken and crushed down. A moment earlier he 
would have been in time. . But in haste and by a mis- 
step he had ended all his earthly journeyings. 

When the lawyer was called the reporter followed his 
friend and Antonio followed him, and when these three 


204 


JESSICA TRENT. 


approached the little room in which the dying man lay, 
the nurse would have sent them back; but Garcia him- 
self pleaded : “Let them be. What matters it how 
many hear or see? The dress-suit case. Bring it, and 
bring the child.” 

They obeyed and he bade them place the key in Jes- 
sica’s small hand. 

“Open it, little one.” 

But her fingers shook so that the nurse, in pity, pushed 
them from the lock and herself unfastened the heavily 
laden case. It contained no clothing, such as might have 
been looked for within; but rolls and packets neatly tied 

“Open them, child.” 

“Oh ! please ! I do not want to ; I am afraid !” 

“Afraid, Jessica Trent? Do you not yet understand? 
That is money, money — of which your father stood ac- 
cused before the world as having stolen. Afraid to 
prove your father what you know him — an honest man !” 
cried Ninian in anger. 

She understood him then, and in frantic haste obeyed. 
Roll after roll, till Mr. Hale said : 

“Enough. His strength is failing. This scene is too 
much for him.” 

At that she pushed the gold away and, falling on her 
knees beside the bed, caught Luis Garcia’s hand and 
covered it with kisses. 

“Oh! thank you, Luis’ father! God bless you, God 
take care of you !” 

“Oh ! the divine pity of childhood,” murmured Ninian, 


APPREHENDED. 205 

huskily. ''She forgets that it was he who wronged her 
in the fact that he has now set her right.” 

The sick man’s face brightened, nor did he withdraw 
his hand. 

“Fow forgive me?'* 

"Yes, yes.” 

"The little Luis. The son I never saw. What shall 
you tell him of his father?” 

"That he was good to me, and that he suffered.” 

"More. Tell the boy this : I never knew he lived. I 
should have known, I should have searched. I did not. 
Ask him, too, to forgive me. And because of me, turn 
him not away.” 

The nurse motioned all the others to go out, and they 
went, Ninian Sharp himself standing guard over the 
dress-suit case the attendant had relocked until it was 
once more safely deposited in the strong box of the hos- 
pital, where even Antonio’s greedy eyes could see it no 
longer. 

But Jessica knelt on, awed and silent, yet now quite un- 
afraid. And Luis Garcia still clasped her hand and fixed 
his fading gaze upon her pitying face. 

"The mother — Ysandra. Where lies she now? Little 
one, do you know that?” 

"Do I not? In the consecrated ground of the old mis- 
sion itself. With all the good dead priests sleeping 
about her. Rose vines cover her grave and my own 
mother tends them herself. Little Luis is made to water 
it, sometimes, though, for that is a good way to keep 
her memory green, my mother says. Near by is where 


206 


JESSICA TRENT. 


my father rests. Would — would you wish to sleep there, 
too, beside them both, and where Luis could bring flowers 
to you as to her?'' 

“I may? You — are — willing? Would — your mother 
— so kind — little Luis r" 

“My mother pities and helps all who suffer. You suf- 
fer, poor man, and I wish that she were here to tell you 
"yes' herself." 

But he had closed his eyes and she could not know if 
he had heard her, though she was glad to see that the 
look of pain had almost left his features. She did not 
speak again but sat quite still until, at last, her hand 
grew numb and she turned toward the nurse, whisper- 
ing: 

“Can I move it? Will it disturb him? He seems to 
be asleep." 

The nurse bent over her patient, then gently answered : 

“Yes, darling. Your task is over. Nothing will ever 
trouble him again. He is at peace — asleep/' 


CHAPTER XIX. 

ANTONIO^S MESSAGE. 

Jessica went back to Ephraim’s room, to tell him this 
wonderful ending of their once almost hopeless search, 
and for long they discussed the story that was at once 
so strange, so moving, and yet so simple. 

“Man proposes, God disposes,” quoted “Forty-niner,” 
with all the emphasis of an original philosophy. “If we’d 
set out to make up a fairy story we couldn’t have beat 
this. But Fm so glad, it seems like I could get right 
up and dance a jig, smashed leg and all.” 

“Glad ! Ephraim, I’m so glad, too, and the gladness 
is so deep, deep down that I don’t want to dance. I just 
want to cry. And that poor man is little Luis’ father. 
Oh ! it is pitiful.” 

“Hush, captain. Don’t you go to grieving over that 
scamp. A man don’t get good nor bad all in a minute. 
It was hard enough, I ’low, for a fellow to be snatched 
out of the world that sudden. Yet, if he could speak 
for himself, he’d say a thousand times better that than 
what the law would have given him. Let him be. His 
part is done. He’s passed in his checks and don’t you 
fear that Heaven won’t pay out on all the good ones. 
Now — what next ?” 

Both knew, yet both disliked to mention that which 
each felt. Till Ephraim swallowed something like a sob, 
and remarked: 


208 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“The longer I lie here, like a log, the madder I get 
at myself and the weaker minded. I’m just about as 
ready to cry as a whipped baby. I know ’twas the best 
thing could have happened, my getting hurt, though why 
a plain, everyday break wouldn’t have answered the pur- 
pose just as well as this ‘compound fracture,’ the doctors 
make such a fuss over and takes so long to heal, I don’t 
see. Nor never shall. If it had been just ordinary bone- 
crackin’ I’d been lively as a hop-toad by now, and ready 
to start right home with you this minute. As it is ” 

“Oh, Ephraim ! I hate to leave you — but I must get 
quickly to my mother ! Don’t you see I must ? To 
smooth all those sad lines out of her dear face and make 
her happy again, as this news surely will. They’ll be 
good to you here, and you can come the first minute 
they’ll let you.” 

“Why not telegraph her? The boys go every day to 
Marion for the letters you and all send, and the post- 
master is the operator, too. Why not that, and wait 
just a day or two. Likely I’ll be cavortin’ round, supple 
as a lizard on a fence, by then.” 

Jessica did not answer and Ephraim asked : 

“How could you go, anyway, without me or some pro- 
tector? Though I made a bad job of it once I wouldn’t 
the second time.” 

“I don’t know how, dear old fellow, and I do know 
how bitter disappointed you are that you can’t be there 
to see my mother’s face and get her thanks right away. 
But ” 


Fortunately for both of these perplexed people, Ninian 


ANTONIO'S MESSAGE. 


209 


Sharp came along the passage just then, and one glimpse 
of his bright, helpful face cleared away Jessica’s anx- 
ieties. 

‘‘You’ll know what’s best and how to do it, won’t you, 
dear Mr. Sharp?” 

“Certainly. That’s my business. Straightening out 
the tangled affairs of the silly rest of the world ! Fetch 
on your trouble !” 

He was in the gayest of moods, elated over the suc- 
cessful termination of his tedious labors, though in his 
heart not unmindful of the tragedy which had brought 
his share in them to an end. What was left, the law’s 
dealings with Antonio and the division and disposition 
of the recovered funds, belonged to Mr. Hale, and he 
very thankfully resigned these matters to that gentle- 
man’s capable hand. 

‘T want to go home. And I don’t want to leave 
Ephraim.” 

“I want to go with you. And I’m going to leave Eph- 
raim — because he’d have to stay awhile, whether or 
no. He will be an important witness for the prosecution, 
providing that New York Company bothers any further 
after having recovered all that belongs to them, with 
some that doesn’t. I’ve a ‘loose foot,’ as I’ve heard that 
your ‘Aunt Sally’ also has betimes, and I mean to shake 
it out Sobrante way. If you’d like to travel in my com- 
pany I can’t prevent it, as I see !” 

“Oh! you darling man! You mean — I know it, for 
it’s just like all the rest of your great kindness— that 
you’re going wholly on purpose to take me home!” 


210 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“Beg pardon, but, indeed. I’m not. At this present 
moment I have no stronger desire than to see that won- 
derful ranch of yours and those ‘boys’ who’ve spoiled you 
so. Why, I couldn’t stay away, after putting my finger 
so deeply into your family pie. I propose to start on 
the nine o’clock train to-morrow morning. Think you 
can be ready by then ?” 

“I’m ready this minute ! No, I mean, as soon as I bid 
everybody good-by, and — and 

“Do a little shopping, eh? That’s what most young 
ladies delay for, I believe.” 

“But I’m neither a young lady nor have I any shopping 
to do. I couldn’t have because I haven’t any money, 
you see, even if I knew how to shop.” 

“What?” demanded “Forty-niner,” impatiently. “No 
money ? I don’t believe all ours is gone yet.” 

“Why, I forgot that. I really did. And I would love, 
if Mr. Sharp thinks it would be right to use it when 
there is all this hospital board for both of us to pay, to 
take a tiny bit of a present to — to ” 

“Everybody you ever knew. I’ll be bound !” cried 
Ninian. 

“I — believe I would. But of course I can’t. So I’d 
best treat all alike and take nothing but our glorious 
good news.” 

“I’m going to take that myself, part of the way. At 
the finish I’ll let you carry the heavy burden and deliver 
it yourself into your mother’s hands. Now, come sit 
down a minute. Ephraim, put on your own thinking- 
cap, and if she forgets anybody you let me know. We 


ANTONIO'S MESSAGE. 


211 


are going to take something to everybody, just as you’d 
like. Now, begin. The mother— but she’s settled, al- 
ready. For her I’ve made a finished picture from a 
sketch I have, of a little yellow-haired girl asleep upon 
a piebald burro’s shoulder. Ned? A train of cars. 
Luis, ditto. Samson — what for Samson?” 

‘‘Would it cost too much to take them each, all the 
‘boys’ the same thing, and that would be a bright red 
necktie ?” 

“Cost not a bit too much and be a deal easier than 
thinking of separate things for so many. Next? Aunt 
Sally?” 

“Oh ! she’s no trouble. A few bits of new calico ‘print’ 
for her patchwork would make her very happy.” 

They forgot nobody, not even Ferd whom Jessica so 
disliked; and at the end of the list she rather timidly sug- 
gested : “Antonio.” 

To that, however, both her friends cried a vehement 
“No !” Not a cent of their money should ever go to 
please such a map as the Senor Bernal. 

“But, that reminds me. This Antonio himself wishes 
to have an interview with you before you leave Los An- 
geles. I want you, though, to feel at liberty to refuse 
this request if you so desire. He deserves no kindness 
at your hands.” 

“No. Don’t you go near him, captain. He’s a snake 
and snakes are unpleasant critters even after their fangs 
are drawn. Leave Antonio to me. When I get well 
I’ll have a little score to settle with him on my own be- 
half,” urged Ephraim. 


212 


JESSICA TRENT. 


'‘Why doesn’t he come to me, himself? Instead of 
sending for me to him. Then I shouldn’t have to trouble 
you to take me.” 

Mr. Sharp looked at Ephraim and smiled, significantly. 

‘T suppose because he cannot. Else so polished a 
gentleman would surely do so.” 

“Why cannot he? Is he ill, too?” 

“Rather ill in his mind, but not in body. Simply, he 
isn’t allowed.” 

“Won’t the hospital folks have him?” 

“Not at present.” 

“I believe you are teasing me. Where is Antonio?” 

. “At police headquarters.” 

“Oh! with Matron Wood?” 

“Not with that good woman, I fear.” 

“Mr. Sharp, please, don’t tease me any more. What 
do you mean?” 

“Antonio is under restraint of the law. He is a pris- 
oner, for the present. Detained until Mr. Hale can con- 
sult with his New York people and find out their dis- 
position toward the fellow. He has done criminal things 
without, apparently, any benefit to himself. He says 
there is something on his mind that he must tell you. 
We’ll call to see him on our way to the shopping district 
and get him over and done with. I’ve no desire to con- 
tinue his acquaintance, myself.” 

Jessica’s face grew serious. 

“Oh! poor Antonio!” 

“Quit that !” commanded “Forty-niner,” with more 
sharpness than he often used toward his beloved lady. 


ANTONIO’S MESSAGE. 


213 


“But, it is so terrible to be a — prisoner. That means 
that one can never go out into the fields or climb the 
mountains, or ride, or hunt, or anything one likes. He 
has done dreadful wrongs, and I never used to like him 
as well as I ought, but now Fm sorry for him. I can’t 
help it, Ephraim, even if it does displease you.” 

“H-m-m. He brought his own misfortune upon him- 
self. But first he had brought worse ones on his truest 
friends and innocent persons whom he never saw.” 

“Maybe he didn’t know any better. Maybe ” 

“Child, you are incorrigible. You’d pity — anybody. 
Yet, perhaps, you are right in a measure. Antonio 
strikes me as more fool than knave.” 

“Well, ril be glad to say good-by to him, anyway.” 

It was a greatly altered Antonio they found. All his 
haughtiness was gone and his depression, his fear, was 
so abject that while Lady Jess pitied him even more than 
before, the reporter felt only contempt. It was he who 
cut short the manager’s wordy explanations and com- 
manded : 

“Now, if you’ve got anything special to say to Miss 
Trent, out with it and have done. We must be off.” 

“Then leave her alone with me for five minutes, yes.” 

“No. What you can say to her must be said in my 
presence.” 

But Jessica petitioned for the favor, and Ninian stepped 
into an adjoining room, leaving the door ajar. 

As soon as he was out of sight, Senor Bernal leaned 
forward, clasping his hands, 


214 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“It is the good turn I do. Well, then, it is the good 
turn you will answer, no.” 

“Of course. I’d do you any 'good turn’ which was 
right for me.” 

“Then plead for me, my liberty. It is you, sehorita, 
who have the so great, the strange power to move many 
hearts to your will. Si. You will plead, then, if I tell 
you — something — a little story — maybe?” 

“I’m in no mood for stories, and you’re talking in 
riddles as you’ve always been fond of doing. Say what 
you mean at once, Antonio, for I’m going home to-mor- 
row. Home ! going home !” 

“Ah ! me ! And I ? But yes. I will. I will force 
myself. I will ask it. That — that — title? Know you 
of that?” 

“How should I know?”' 

“Ephraim. Was not Ephraim at the safe one mid- 
night? Is not Ephraim a little strange — here?” touch- 
ing his own forehead. 

Jessica turned away, indignant. 

“No, but you are. The queerest, crookedest man I 
ever saw. If you’ve anything to tell me, just be quick, 
I am going. As for Ephraim, I wish, unhappy man, 
that you had half the goodness and honesty in your whole 
body that dear old fellow has in his littlest finger. He 
couldn’t do a mean thing nor even think one, and if you 
sent for me to abuse him to me you might have spared 
yourself the trouble.” 

“Well, then. It is known, is it not? That when I 
shook the dust .of Sobrante rancho from my feet I took 


ANTONIO’S MESSAGE. 


215 


away with me all the papers that appertained to the so 
great business of the place? Why not? Was I not to 
go back the master, and for the settlement of all affairs 
which I had with the Doha Gabriella?” 

“You will please never call my mother by her first 
name again, Antonio Bernal. She is an American gentle- 
woman, and her title is Mrs. Trent. Understand? She 
is not afraid of you, nor am I, though she was patient 
and, for her children’s sakes, would not quarrel nor resent 
your insolence. All that is changed. You can do us 
no further harm. My father’s name is freed from all 
the shadow that your wickedness cast over it, and as for 
titles to property — poor! None of the Trents, big or 
little, care anything for property since we have regained 
honor ! Besides, Sobrante isn’t the ‘only home in the 
world. They are everywhere, waiting for those who will 
take them. If we lose Sobrante, as I suppose we may, 
I — just I, Jessica Trent, a child, will make a home for 
my mother and my brother — somewhere. I am strong. 
I can work. I am not at all afraid.” 

Despite his meanness and cupidity, Antonio was .moved. 
The girl was radiant in her courage and enthusiasm, and 
her disdain of what he could make her suffer was in- 
finite. 

“Good, senorita. When you speak and look like that 
I can no longer keep silence, I. The papers ! It is pos- 
sible, no? That among them, in my so great haste at 
leaving Sobrante, that little, yes, it might — it might be 
among those other papers appertaining to the so great 
business. Si. If I point the way, if I tell the secret 


216 


JESSICA TRENT. 


retiring place of me, I, Antonio Bernal, you will plead 
and set me free? It is a contract, a bargain — yes?” 

Jessica pondered. The temptation was strong to say 
“yes” without delay; but she had now learned to wholly 
distrust the late manager of her mother’s business, and 
answered, cautiously : 

“I’ll do what I can, Antonio, but if my mother forbids 
me to ‘plead,’ I shall not disobey her. You did what 
you pleased, and my friends say you will have to suffer 
the consequences.” 

“Ah ! but it is the so old head on the so small shoul- 
ders. That wisdom was not of your own, sehorita 
But, I forgive the suspicion. Yes, I am magnanimous. 
I am generous, I, Senor Bernal, heir — rightful heir — to 
Sobrante rancho and all of Paraiso d’Oro.' See! Be- 
hold I Did the Lady Jessica never hear of El Desierto, 
no?” 

“The Deserted Ranch? Where Pedro says the spirits 
of dead people walk ? Of course. Everybody has heard 
of that. Why?” 

“Sometimes the ‘spirits’ keep hidden treasures safe. 
Yes. Si. Does the sehorita know the trail thither, to 
that haunted place?” 

“No. Nor wish to. Good-by, Antonio. I can wait 
for no more of your nonsense.” 

“The paper. The pencil, which the Lady Jess holds 
in her hand. One moment, that to me, if the sehorita 
pleases.” 

“I brought these for my little shopping trip, which Pm 


Antonio's message. 


217 


to take with Mr. Sharp. I can't give them to you, but 
ril lend, for a moment. Here they are. Be quick.” 

Antonio seized the pencil and rapidly sketched upon 
the pad a few dots and lines, suggesting a zigzag road 
and stations upon it. At the starting point he wrote 
“Marion,” and the end “Sobrante.” Midway, -and well 
to the north, where a curving course indicated an arroyo 
he marked “El Desierto.” 

Then he looked up, and Jessica reached forward to take 
back her possessions. 

But with what he considered great craft and cunning 
he thrust them behind him and smiled grimly : 

“The promise, sehorita. First the promise; T will 
plead for the liberty of Sehor Antonio Bernal, so help 
me ’ ” 

Unperceived by the artful manager, Ninian Sharp had 
entered the room from a rear door. He was tired of 
waiting for the interview to end and had overheard most 
of it from the outer room. He now quietly stretched out 
his own hand and possessed himself of the rude map, 
and then as quietly and instantly withdrew with it, call- 
ing as he did so: 

“Come on. Lady Jess. Time'6 up. So is Antonio’s 
little game ; yet, thanks, sehor, for playing it so openly. 
Good-day. Adios. Farewell. Et cetera, Au revoir, 
and all the rest. We’ll show you that title deed— if we 
find it!" 


CHAPTER XX. 


A RAILWAY JOURNEY. 

The morning of departure had come and, trembling 
with both fear and eagerness, Jessica stood beside the 
reporter upon the station, waiting for the great train to 
move outward. 

“Step aboard. Lady Jess. Homeward bound!” 

“Oh! it looks so big and somehow dreadful. I can 
ride any kind of a horse, or an ostrich, and burros, of 
course, but ” 

“But you don’t know yet how to ride a railway car- 
riage. Then let me tell you you’ll find it so delightful 
you’ll not want to get out when the journey’s done.” 

“Don’t you believe that, Mr. Sharp. The end of the 
journey, this part, at least, means, Marion, and that’s but 
a bit of a way from my mother. Is everything ready? 
Scruff? Is he here?” 

“Come and see the sorrowful chap in his moving stable 
if you wish. Though it hasn’t moved as yet. He’ll 
probably rebel against the state of affairs, at first; then 
be just as unwilling to leave the car as he was to enter it. 
It’s a fine place for sleeping, and sleeping is Scruff’s chief 
aim in life.” 

“He’s had to make up for lost time, for he’d never too 
much sleep at home, where Ned and Luis were. Oh ! to 
think! To-morrow, to-morrow — this very next day 


A RAILWAY JOURNEY. 


219 


that’s coming — I shall have my arms around those chil- 
dren’s precious necks and feel my mother’s kisses on my 
lips. I can’t wait. I can’t.” 

“Humph ! ' I shall begin to think you can wait and 
very contentedly if you don’t step into this car pretty 
soon.” 

Jessica had never traveled by rail and the shock of the 
accident which had befallen Luis’ father made her more 
timid than she had ever been before. She had pleaded 
to make the return trip by saddle, as she had come, but 
Mr. Sharp would not consent. 

“Time. Time. We must make time. Lady Jess. A 
newspaper man never uses a week where a day will do. 
If he did — well, no knowing if we should ever get out a 
single issue of The Lancet. Come on. If there were 
any danger do you think I would make you face it?” 

Thus shamed and by the friend who had proved so true 
to her interests, the little girl shut her eyes, held out 
her hands and was lightly swung upon the rear platform 
of the luxurious coach in which they were to make the 
first half of their trip. Later, they would have to leave 
the main line for a branch road, terminating at Marion, 
their postal station. From Marion, the thirty miles of 
saddle work, with the added detour on account of El 
Desierto, would be all the reporter fancied he should care 
for. 

“Some day I’ll come to Sobrante, if I’m invited, and 
get that famous rider, Samson, to teach me the trick of 
‘broncho busting’ or some other caper. But now, the en- 
gine can’t travel fast enough to suit my impatience.” 


220 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Nor Jessica, neither, after the first few moments of the 
journey. She forgot her fear in watching the swiftly 
moving landscape, and found it hard to believe that the 
landscape itself was still and she who was carried past 
it. This time there was none of Aunt Sally’s bountiful 
luncheon but what seemed to Lady Jess something far 
finer — a dining-car. To be sure, during their first meal 
in this, served by colored waiters whose unfamiliar faces 
distracted her attention, and swayed by the motion of 
the train, the girl’s appetite was not worth mentioning; 
but by the time the supper hour was reached she was 
ready to enjoy almost everything which her companion 
ordered for her. It delighted him to observe how swiftly 
she comprehended and adapted herself to new things, 
and in his spirit of “teasing” he laid several harmless 
“traps” for her entanglement. 

But she had now learned to distinguish his fun from 
his earnest and, after one keen glance into his face, would 
skillfully avoid the little slips of speech or manner that 
would have so diverted him. 

“No, Mr. Sharp, I’m ever so ignorant of the way 
city people and traveling people do, but one thing 
Ephraim taught me, even on our quiet way out. That 
was : ‘Use your eyes, not your tongue, and watch what 
other folks do.’ So, if watching will prevent my doing 
awkward things. I’ll watch, surely enough.” 

They were to sleep at Marion, and when they finally 
left the less comfortable car of the branch road at that 
town, it was very dark and no vehicles were in waiting 
to convey passengers to the one hotel of the place. Few 


A RAILWAY JOURNEY, 


221 


persons stopped at Marion, except such as resided there 
or near, and such either walked from the station to their 
homes or had their own wagons meet them. 

Ninian Sharp was disgusted. He was tired, his head 
ached, and he had anticipated no such “one horse” vil- 
lage as this. “Why, I thought it was your post town 
and all that.” 

“So it is. And a very pretty little place by daylight, 
save that they don’t irrigate.” 

“Which means there isn’t a spear of grass within the 
town limits, doesn’t it?” 

“Almost as bad. But now we’ll change places, if you 
please. I’ve been to Marion several times with my father 
and once since — since he went away, with Samson. 
There ! They’ve taken Scruff out of the car and you 
must ride him. I know the way. It’s only a mile, about, 
to the hotel. Of course, there’s a lodging-house nearer, 
right by this station, indeed, but the hotel’s nicer. You’ll 
get a better bed there, and we’d best go on.” 

“I’d rather sleep on the ground than walk a mile.” 

“You shall do neither. Didn’t you hear me say 
we’ve changed places now? I’m so near home I am at 
home and I’m — the captain. Obey orders, sir, and 
mount Scruff’s back.” 

He was too weary to protest and too ill. Subject to 
acute neuralgia, he was, like plenty of people, rather 
less courteous when he was in pain than at other times. 
Besides, now there was something of that decision in Jes- 
sica's tone which sick people find restful, and he quietly 


222 


JESSICA TRENT. 


threw one long leg across Scruff’s back and let the girl 
do as she pleased. 

This was to start forward over the unpaved, unlighted 
street at a swift unbroken run, which Scruff had some 
work to equal ; but the speed brought them promptly to a 
wooden “tavern,” from one window of which there 
gleamed a solitary oil lamp. 

“Horrors ! Antonio described a ranch called Desola- 
tion, or something like that, and I reckon we’ve arrived,” 
lamented the reporter, jolted into fresh distress by the 
burro’s trot. 

Jessica laughed. 

“Wait. Be patient, dear man. Within five minutes 
you’ll be sleeping on a clean, sweet bed, and when you 
wake up in the morning it will be to a fine breakfast, a 
perfect day, and — Sobrante!” 

Then she tapped on the window and called : 

“Hello , there ! Sobrante folks ! Open the door, 
quick !” 

A head was thrust out of another window, further 
along on the narrow porch, and a sleepy voice asked : 

“What’s that you say? Who wants ” 

“I do! Jessica Trent, from Sobrante. But last, right 
from Los Angeles city. Please be quick 1” 

In less time than seemed possible, for such a drowsy 
person to reach it, the door was flung wide and there 
rushed out upon the porch a man and a woman, who both 
seized Jessica at one time and in their effort to embrace 
her succeeded in hugging each other. Whereupon the 


A RAILWAY JOURNEY. 


223 


landlady flung her stalwart husband aside and caught the 
little girl in her arms, to carry her within. 

“Oh! but this is the darling home again! And is it 
good news you’ve brought, my dear ? Ah ! by the shin- 
ing of your bonny eyes one can see that plain. Light 
up, Aleck ! Light up ! How can we have such dark- 
ness when the bairn is safe back ? And, begging pardon, 
lassie, who is this yon ?” 

Jessica presented her friend and added, quickly : 

“Only for him I could never have done that business, 
Janet, Aleck. And it is done. Everybody ” 

“All the countryside knows it already, Jessica Trent. 
It’s ringing with it, as it rung with the story of a brave 
little lass who set out alone and unfriended, save for one 
old man, to clear her father’s memory of a stain some 
ne’er-do-weel had dared to splash it with; and how the 
old man broke his leg and lost the bairn ; and, losing, she 
fell into wiser hands and all, and all, and all. Why, the 
‘boys’ are here long before sun up; hours before mail- 
time, to get the latest news. Ah ! it’s proud is all this 
land because of you, my wee bit bairnie!’’ 

Again was Jessica caught and kissed till her breath 
was gone ; but released she demanded, and with disap- 
pointment in her tone : 

“So the news is no news, and does my mother, too, 
know all?” 

“Hasn’t the sweet lady read the papers that the ‘boys’ 
have carried, loping to break their necks! Ah, lassie, 
’twill be an ovation you’ll get when once they sight your 
bonny head shining on the sandy branch road !” 


224 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Jessica turned toward Ninian Sharp with the first feel- 
ing of anger she had ever had toward him. 

“The papers? Your Lancet, I suppose. But you 
knew, you knew how much I wanted to surprise my 
mother.” 

“Even so. But could you expect a man to keep back 
such fine ‘copy’ from his office? If you did, or if I could, 
somebody else, like The Gossip, would have got ahead 
of us. It was public property, my little Lady, and pri- 
vate interests, or fancies, always yield to the great pub- 
lic. We’ll discuss this further to-morrow. To-night I’d 
like to see the bed you promised.” 

Jessica caught the hand of her weary friend and 
begged : 

“Forgive me. I forgot. And I suppose that the very 
feeling which made you so kind and faithful to us, 
strangers, made you faithful to — to that horrid old Lan- 
cet, too. Now, Janet, you are to give Mr. Sharp your 
very nicest bed and breakfast, for he is tired and suf- 
fering.” 

“ ’Tis ready this instant. ’Tis always ready, lassie, 
though few come nowadays, to use it. This way, sir. 
After I show him I’ll come for you. Lady Jess.” 

Jessica had not overpraised the neatness and comfort 
of this out-of-the-way hostelry, and Ninian Sharp slept 
dreamlessly till joyous voices outside his window roused 
him to the fact that morning and hunger had arrived to- 
gether. Remembering; too, the long ride that lay before 
him and the necessity of finding a horse for it, he rose 
and hastily dressed. He had lost his neuralgic pains and 


A RAILWAY JOURNEY. 


225 


his spirits were again such as Jessica had always seen 
him show. She, too, was up and waiting, and it looked 
as if her ovation had begun ; for she was already the cen- 
ter of an admiring group yet held closest to the side of a 
big ranchman, grizzled and rugged, but beaming upon her 
and all the rest like an incarnate joy. 

“Samson, Samson, here he is! Mr. Sharp, dear Mr. 
Sharp, this is my biggest ‘boy’ !” , 

“Huh 1 Glad to see you, little one. ‘Looks like you’d 
be quite a man when you get growed up,’ ’’ quoted the 
joker, giving Samson’s hand a cordial grasp. 

“Come on! Come on! You’re the lad for us! Well, 
sir, you do me proud. You do Sobrante proud. You do 
all the world proud, and that’s my sentiment to a t-i-o-n, 
sir ! Breakfast’s ready.” 

“Oh, Mr. Ninian, he’s brought — my mother has sent 
you the horse that nobody else has ridden since my father 
did. Nimrod, the swiftest, gentlest thoroughbred that 
anybody ever rode.” 

“Sent him for me? Why, how could she know that 
we were coming?” 

“Why shouldn’t she?” asked Samson. “Him and John 
Benton was over yesterday, but to-day it was my turn. 
One of us has been every day since the captain left So- 
brante; and since the good news arrived there’s always 
been a led horse for you, sir. Would have been till the 
day of judgment, too, if you hadn’t struck us afore. 
Reckon you aren’t acquainted with our little settlement, 
sir.” 

“Reckon I wasn’t, but I’m beginning to be. My ! What 


226 


JESSICA TRENT. 


a magnificent animal. And it solves the difficulty of find- 
ing a mount out to the ranch. I’m not much of a horse- 
man, though. I don’t know but I’d better stick to Scruff 
and leave Nimrod to Lady Jess.” 

Samson wheeled around and eyed the stranger, curi- 
ously. Then he advanced and held out his hand again. 

“Shake, Sharp. You’re a man, even if you do live in 
a city, and the first one I ever met who hailed from such 
a place and didn’t think he knew it all. You’ll do. And 
you can ride. A baby could, that creatur’. If you can’t 
stick I’ll hold you on. Now, breakfast, I say.” 

This was Jessica’s chance and before they sat down to 
the bounteous meal which Janet had been hours in pre- 
paring she managed to draw Ninian aside and whisper a 
request, to which he nodded prompt assent. So, nobody 
but they two knew what was meant when, as the three* 
mounted and were about to ride away, she asked Samson : 

“Do you know the trail to El Desierto?” 

“Do I know a pisen serpent? What in the name of 
reason put such a forsaken hole into your head on this 
joyful occasion?” 

“Never mind what, and never mind speech-making, 
dear old fellow. I have to call at El Desierto on my way 
to Sobrante and would like to know the shortest road.” 

Samson scratched his head, thrust his great hat back 
upon it and looked inquiringly at Mr. Sharp. 

“Is she — has she got a little ‘touched’ down there in 
your City of Angels and Scamps, eh?” 

“Samson, am I still the captain, or am I not 


A RAILWAY JOURNEY. 


227 


‘^Captain, I salute. Ride on ! You, Aleck, hitch up a 
board and take that trunk of Miss Trent’s to her country 
seat, and be quick about it. Hurray! I’m so happy I’m 
looney 1 Here’s for El Desierto and no questions asked. 
Hurray !” 


CHAPTER XXL 


BACK AT SOBRANTE. 

For an hour and a half they rode swiftly along a com- 
paratively level trail, though to Ninian Sharp’s untrained 
eyes there was no road visible. How Samson managed 
to pick his way so undeviatingly over the dried herbage 
and sandy soil was a mystery ; but neither the guide nor 
Jessica found anything strange in this. Those who live 
in wide solitudes grow keen of sight and hearing, and 
there were tiny roughnesses here and there which clearly 
marked to these experienced ranch people where other 
feet had passed that way. 

Presently the roughness increased, and the trail climbed 
steadily toward a mesa, which seemed to the reporter but 
ten rods distant, yet was, in reality, as many miles. 

“We turn here, captain. Shall I ride ahead?” 

“Yes, Samson, but slowly. Scruff’s been so idle all 
these weeks and grown so lazy he’ll hardly move.” 

“He’ll get over that soon as he meets up with the 
tackers. My, but they’ve led Aunt Sally a life! And 
taken more medicine than was due ’em during the natural 
course of their lives. Say, Sharp, do you enjoy picra?” 

“Never tasted the stuff.” 

“And ‘never too late to mend.’ Here, take this vial, I 
present it to you with my compliments. With the cap- 
tain’s respects. With the good will of the whole outfit.” 


BACK AT SOBRANTE. 


229 


“But, beg pardon, I have not the slightest desire nor 
use for — picra.” 

“Don’t delude yourself. You’ll have to have it, out- 
side or in. I’m a friend. I give you this bottle. Then, 
when Aunt Sally appears with her little dish and spoon, 
produce this from your pistol pocket and knock her plumb . 
speechless. It’s your only salvation. Now or never.” 

“All right. Thanks. A case of forearmed, I sup- ■ 
pose.” 

“Exactly. Now — there she is!” 

Samson rose in his stirrups and pointed forward with 
his crop. Upon a barren, wide-stretching tableland stood 
a cluster of adobe huts. Behind them a clump of live 
oaks; beside them A sandy, curving streak, an arroyo, 
lighter in hue than the surrounding soil, but parched 
and dry as if part of the desert itself ; behind them, three ' 
mighty, jagged, upward-pointing rocks. Other than 
these features there was no break anywhere upon the 
plain. 

“There she is. The weirdest, lonesomest, God-forsak- 
enest habitation that fools ever made or lived in. Hello ! 
What’s up captain?” 

For Jessica had also caught sight of the desolate 
homestead and, having too low stirrups for standing, had 
sprung to Scruff’s back and poised thus on his saddle, 
was straining her eager^ excited gaze toward the distant 
El Desierto. 

“My dream! The spot! For once he told the truth! 
Follow, follow me, quick !” 

“Land of love ! She has gone queer, and that’s a fact. 


230 


JESSICA TRENT. 


Does the mite think that there little donkey can outrun 
your horse or mine? After her, stranger, lest she do 
some harm to herself.” 

Ninian smiled softly and touched Nimrod lightly, and 
in a moment all three were again racing over the mesa, 
side by side, the girl foremost, and the men reining in 
their horses lest they should forestall her of the goal to 
which she aspired. The reporter, as eager and almost 
as wise as she, but good Samson completely in the dark 
and growing a trifle angry over the fact. 

When they came up to it the place seemed utterly de- 
serted. The doors opened to the touch and in all but one 
of the three small buildings the windows were broken. 
The third was in better repair and was evidently some- 
times still used by somebody. There was a bed, or cot, 
spread with blankets, a coal-oil stove, some canned meats 
and biscuits, and a well-wrapped gun. 

But Jessica’s attention passed these details over. 

“The rocks ! They are the very same as in my dream 
and he told me of them when he drew the map. Is that 
in your pocket, Mr. Sharp? Oh! is it?” 

“Sure.” He drew it forth and held it so that Samson, 
too, could see. 

“Come! In the dream there was a little cave beneath 
the rocks and in the cave a box. You know it, Samson, 
the black tin box in which the valuable papers were kept. 
We could find it nowhere, mother nor I, but I shall find 
it here and in it— oh ! in it — there will be that title deed ! 
You look, ‘boys,’ I can’t, I tremble so.” 

Samson forced his great length downward and inward 


BACK AT SOBRANTE. 


231 


under the bowlders and found, as Jessica had felt sure, 
a small but perfectly dry and well-protected cave. The 
rocks and live oaks screened it from the sight of those 
who did not know it existed, and it would never have 
been suspected that there was aught but solid ground be- 
neath those jagged stones. 

The horses and Scruff were willing to stand without 
tying, and Ninian was, in any case, too excited now to 
have remembered them. He saw that Lady Jess was 
trembling, indeed, and trembled himself. If this should 
prove a disappointment, how would she bear it? 

But it was not to be that. From the little cave there 
presently issued a mighty shout. That is it would have 
been mighty had the space been large enough to give it 
vent. As it was, it came like the subdued roar of a wild 
animal, and it was almost surprising to see the soles of 
Samson’s boots emerge from the opening instead of furry 
feet. 

When he had crawled outward so far that he could lift" 
himself upright, the sailor leaped so high that Ninian 
felt as if he were the one who had gone “queer” instead 
of Jessica, suspected. But his reason was obvious ; for 
there in his hand was the veritable black tin box familiar 
to the girl from her earliest memory, and seen often 
enough by the herder to be instantly recognized. 

When, at last, the box was in her own hands Jessica 
became very quiet, though her voice still trembled as she 
said : 

“This belongs to my mother. It is for her to open it.” ‘ 

“No, captain.” 


232 


JESSICA TRENT. 


“Not SO, Jessica. If the deed for which she looked 
were not there it would be but a fresh distress to her. 
You look. It is your interest as well as hers, and if it is 
not there you can save her, at least, one disappointment 
on this day of your return.” 

The opinions of her two friends prevailed; and, since 
they had no key, Samson’s great knife forced the lock, 
and stored within were papers and vouchers of great 
value to Sobrante, which the faithless manager had car- 
ried "away for his own purposes. 

The deed ? Ah ! yes. There it lay at the very bottom 
of the pile, and Jessica knew it at once for the queer 
paper which her father had shown her on the night before 
his death. 

For a time she could only weep over it and caress it, 
remembering the dear hands which had held it before 
her, and the unforgotten voice which had explained its 
value and all about the necessary “recording” which 
must be made. Then she rallied, remembering, also, that 
other precious parent, alive and waiting for her and it. 

“Keep you the box, Samson. I, myself, must keep 
and carry this.” 

She fastened it within her blouse and kept one hand 
upon it all the rest of the way. A brief and happy way, 
which ended in a mother’s arms and in the wild welcome 
of every dweller at Sobrante. And when the mother’s 
arms set their recovered treasure free for a moment there 
were all the “boys” ready and waiting to seize and carry 
her from point to point, telling how careful had been 


BACK AT SOBRANTE. 


233 


each one’s stewardship and how they would never let her 
• g’o again. Never. 

As for Ninian Sharp he did not recognize himself in 
the hero they all made of him, nor did even Aunt Sally 
; presume to offer him, so wonderful a man, a single nau- 
seous dose. But she was overheard to remark to Wun 
► Lung, who had also joined the company unforbidden by 
^ his arch enemy : 

“I do believe, Wun Lungy, that if ever that there 
handsome young man should go and get married I’d set 
him up with my fifty-five thousand five hundred and 
‘ fifty-five piece bedquilt. I did lay out to bequeath it to 
Jessica, but, la! I can piece her another, just as willin’ as 
- not. What you say, Wun Lungy?” 

“I slay, fool wloman!” 

For a time joy and surprise turned Ned and Luis 
speechless ; yet they were sent to bed late that night, each 
hugging a sharp-edged train of tin cars and breathing, 
“Choo ! choo !” as if a railway were a common sight in- 
stead of an unknown one. 

But there came at last a quiet hour for mother and 
child, when they sat in close embrace, telling all that had 
befallen each during the days of separation. 

“Oh I if dear Ephraim were only here, mother ! I 
said it should not be a month before that title deed was 
found, and the month will not be up until to-morrow. 
Poor Ephraim ! It was bitter hard to leave him alone in 
that hospital, well-liked and cared for though he is. If 
it hadn’t been for him I could never have gone. And the 
‘boys’ would have made .such a hero of him. Even as 


234 


JESSICA TRENT. 


they did of Mr. Sharp. Can’t you guess how proud 
they’d have been of him, mother?” 

When Mrs. Trent did not reply, Jessica looked up 
quickly and saw that dear face so near her own still 
clouded by a shadow of trouble. 

“Why, mother! What is it? You look as if you were 
not perfectly, absolutely happy, and yet how can you be 
else — to-night ?” 

“Yes, darling, I am happy. So glad and thankful that 
I cannot put it into words. But Ephraim? My darling, 
at present, not for some days, if I were you I would not 
talk much about Ephraim. You will be happier so. No. 
He is alive and getting well, so far as I know. There 
has been no later news than yours. Don’t look so 
alarmed. Only this : the ‘boys’ have taken some queer 
notion about our ‘Forty-niner,’ and so I say he is prob- 
ably happier just where he is to-night than if he were 
back at Sobrante.” 

“Oh ! mother I Another mystery ? and about such a 
simple, honest, splendid old fellow as my Ephraim? Well, 
never mind. I seem to be sent into the world to solve 
other people’s ‘mysteries,’ and I’ll solve his.” 

Eventually she did. But how and when cannot be 
told here. That is a story which must be related another 
time. But for the time Jessica was happy and all went 
well. 


THE END. 


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first time novelized and translated into English. 

' The Philadelphia Enquirer says : 

“A pretty love story in which the debonair 
cavalier falls victim to Cupid’s wiles is one 
of the interesting threads running through 
the book.” 

The Chicago Record-Herald says : 

“It is singular that this bit of romance has 
been suffered to remain hidden away for so 
long a time. D’Artagnan ’s manner of 
winning the hermit kingdom contains 
enough thrills to repay a careful reading. 

The story oozes adventure at every chapter.” 

The Brooklyn Eagle says : 

“It is a strong tale brimful of incident 
from the moment when Cardinal Riche ieu 
dispatches the redoubtable D’Artagnan on his 
king-making mission to Portugal.” . . . 

i2mo., Illustrated. Price, ^i.oo. 


street and smith , New York and London 



A HERO OF THE SWORD. 


The King’s Gallant 

By ALEXANDRE DUMAS. 


“The King’s Gallant” is deserving of 
recognition, in that it is not only a noveliza- 
tion of the earliest of Dumas’ plays, but it 
marks a distinct triumph in his career. . . 

If this production is full of the rushing' 
vigor of youth, it is because its celebrated 

f 

author was but a youth when he penned it, 
yet it was the stepping stone which led to 
that upward flight wherein he was speedily 
hailed as the “ Wizard of Fiction.” . . . 

It is a volume full of action with a strong 
plot and a truly masterful deliniation of 
character 

i2mo. Cloth. Price, fi.oo. 


street and smith, York and London 

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